


Book of Thorns

by Queen_Multifandom



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adultery, Affairs, Arranged Marriage, Asgard, BAMF Frigga, Canon Divergence - Post-Thor (2011), Cheating, Descent into Madness, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Guilty Reader, Hate to Love, Infidelity, Insanity, Jealous Loki, Jötunn Loki, Loki Angst, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Love Triangles, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate, Mental Breakdown, Mild Sexual Content, Odin's A+ Parenting, Possessive Loki, Protective Thor, Reader-Insert, Sad Ending, Sad Loki, Shapeshifter Loki, Sigyn loves Loki, Thor Feels, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor Is a Good Bro, Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Villain Sif, but in love with loki, death of unborn child, slight AU, the events of the 2011 thor movie do not happen, you're married to thor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:13:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 62,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6005440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Multifandom/pseuds/Queen_Multifandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He spoke my name, softly, like the mellow falling of snow.</p><p>"Do you hear that? Our hearts," he took my hand carefully in his and pressed it against the centre of his chest, "beating as one. Do you feel it? The link that exists between your heart and mine, the void inside me filled upon receiving your touch."</p><p>I could feel his cool breath against my lips with every passing second, time slowing around us until him and I were the only people in the world that mattered.</p><p>---------</p><p>An angsty, sexually exhilarating first-person reader insert set in a post-Thor (2011) universe in which the main events of the movie don't take place except for Loki finding out that he's of Jotunheim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Give In To The Flame

**Author's Note:**

> The older I get, the riskier my fics get. Expect a poor attempt at depicting sexual desire.
> 
>  
> 
> HERE'S A VIDEO I MADE FOR THIS FANFICTION: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Gp4onvhv4o
> 
> Thanks ^_^

Our first encounter took place just after the ceremony, during the feast. I had fled desperately to the library after having excused myself from the Great Hall, where the King and his son were dining heartily with all the noblemen from every realm who were invited to the wedding.  
  
With pain and a sense of unjustness in my heart, I did nothing but sink to the floor behind the nearest bookshelf, my body racked with sobs.  
  
"Father..." I retrieved an ageing book from the shelf, absent-mindedly stroking the dust from the rough leather surface, clouding my fingertips a sorrowful grey. "Why would you allow me to wed a man with whom my heart does not lie?"  
  
"The sorrow of a woman is always loud as a storm, yet no one listens."  
  
My crying ceased, eyes wide at the sudden voice that had invaded my thoughts. I stood, turning to face the man who had spoken. I gasped as my forehead came in contact with a firm chest, the smell of leather and steel dizzying my senses. In a moment of uneasiness I stumbled only to be caught by a set of strong arms keeping me on my feet. I pushed him away.  
  
"How dare you!" I whispered spitefully, "I am the bride of Thor Odinson, crown prince of Asgard! You dare disgust me with your impropriety?!"  
  
An amused chuckle came from above me, rumbling warmly through his chest. His voice was like a serpent, his piercing emerald gaze sharp as silver as I looked up to meet his eyes.  
  
He was beautiful.  
  
Eyes of crystalline jade, skin of fine marble and hair slick like the feathers of a raven were presented before my eyes, sending my heart into an endless frenzy.  
  
"Even the crude stain of tears do not cause Your Highness's beauty to falter."  
  
My eyes narrowed. "You dare speak to me with these words?"  
  
He laughed again, mischief twinkling in his eye against the light of the moon that seeped in through the library windows.  
  
The man stepped aside, mockingly paving a path leading out of the library and back into the Great Hall - the last place in all of the Nine Realms I wanted to be at that moment.  
  
"Your highness seems eager to return to the prince's side," he said, a hint of bitterness in his jesting tone, "allow me to humbly escort you."  
  
I stood speechless, finding myself unable to move from where I so firmly wished to stay. After a while, not caring who this man was or where he had come from, I let slip my forbidden thoughts. "I... I don't want to."  
  
His devilish lips curled up into a smug little smirk as he cupped his ear, as if unable to hear what I had just said. "I beg your Highness's pardon?"  
  
I gritted my teeth in irritation. "I said, I don't want to return to the feast."  
  
"But it is your wedding day. You must go."  
  
"Whether or not I attend my own wedding feast is up to me to decide and not you." I snapped, eyes glazing over his beaming expression. I scowled. "Who are you, sir?"  
  
He smiled slyly. "I am Einar, a humble servant of the King." He bowed elegantly, cunning eyes never leaving mine.  
  
"Th-then you have no business being anywhere but in service of the King in the great hall."  
  
"Forgive my boldness, my lady, but -" his eyes dart back and forth between the library door and me, "neither do you."  
  
"I -" My voice caught in my throat and I found myself unable to come up with a suitable response as to the reason behind my reluctance to return to my own wedding feast. I couldn't tell a mere stranger, much less a servant, that I was upset over the fact that my father had agreed to wed me to Thor Odinson of Asgard, a man I had only met a few days prior.  
  
"Then I cannot place blame on you for your distraught state. Thor Odinson is quite the oaf."  
  
I stared at him in shock. "How did you..."  
  
"Magic, my dear." He made a dismissing gesture. "Now come, we must return, lest your new husband forgets entirely about the marriage and chooses to bed one of his maidservants for the remainder of tonight."  
  
I glared at him, but it was all in vain as my frown curled up into a playful smile. Deep in my heart, I hoped that every night, Thor would always share his bed with another woman and never I.  
  
"Take me back into the great hall, Einar."  
  
"'Tis an honour to serve you, Your Highness."  
  
Taking his arm I allowed him to escort me back towards the dining hall. I could have sworn that I felt a sort of predatory gaze burning into my skull, but chose to ignore it once we came upon the great hall.  
  
Upon our arrival, the auburn illumination of candles and cheer surrounded us like a quilt, warm yet too humid for comfort. I caught Thor's eye from across the hall, watching as his face light up in genuine happiness.  
  
"My bride!" he bellowed merrily, drinking clumsily from his large mug of ale and letting it fall to the floor with a loud crash. The noise seemed not to reach his ears as he pushed past some comparably smaller guests to reach me.  
  
"Greetings, my prince." I bowed slightly, a smile tightly plastered across my face as if it would fall into a frown at any moment.  
  
He hurriedly pulled me into a warm embrace, pressing my burning cheek against the cold steel of his breastplate. "My sweet love, we are now man and wife! We have no need of these pointless formalities." He pulled away from the embrace, grinning at me with gentle blue eyes and features of candour. He was indeed a very handsome man who treated me as if he had known me since his youth, which I appreciated greatly.  
  
"Of course," I smiled sweetly so as to hide the uneasiness in my eyes, "this feast is simply splendid, Thor."  
  
"I could not agree more. And how are you, my beautiful wife? How are you enjoying yourself this fine night?" he beamed, placing a large hand on my cheek and tucking away a stray hair with his thumb.  
  
"I am thankful that I am in your thoughts," I replied, "I am very much enjoying myself."  
  
"Then I may enjoy the night content!"  
  
Thor gazed at me with a funny sort of hesitance and I could have sworn that his robust cheeks were painted a slight pink hue. After a few moments he leaned forward ever so slightly, placing a shy kiss on my lips that lasted an adorable second.  
  
"I shall come to you tonight, my love", he whispered fondly, "wait for me." Planting another kiss on my forehead he left to join his fellow warriors and friends, Fandral and Volstagg.  
  
It was only then that I realised that Einar had seemingly vanished from my side and was nowhere to be found in the vast, luxurious halls. I was confused, but decided that he must have slipped away before Thor had come over.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Sif, a charming and beautiful warrior with features sharp as a hawk's and a cool yet alluring demeanour. She was standing miserably by the ale barrel, filling her goblet and drinking from it with a vacant expression. I decided to go and put in some nice words to give myself a good impression.  
  
It was no surprise to me when I learned of her love for Thor Odinson. Despite being a proud, independent woman, her heart had not hardened - it belonged to my new husband. The fondness in her gaze upon looking at him did not escape my notice the first time we met.  
  
Upon noticing my arrival, her lips visibly tightened into a thin line as she bowed politely.  
  
"Greetings, Your Highness."  
  
"Please, rise," I helped her up by her arms, "what are you doing all on your own here, Sif?"  
  
"I am well; Your Highness should not waste your concern over me."  
  
"Nonsense. You are a great friend of Thor's; it is only right that we should become friends ourselves."  
  
Sif smiled, putting down her empty mug. "If that is what Your Highness wishes. I trust that My Lady is enjoying herself?"  
  
"Forgive me for my childishness, but this array of tables and ornaments fills my heart with an odd sort of joy!"  
  
"I am sure that Thor will be elated to know that you feel this way, my lady."  
  
"Yes, my husband is indeed glad."  
  
We exchanged awkward smiles, her melancholy eyes speaking to me and telling me all I needed to know. I could only offer a look of comfort in return and change the subject, taking the opportunity to relieve my curiosity.  
  
"Would you happen to know a servant of the King named Einar?"  
  
Her dark brows furrowed in confusion. "'Einar'? I am unfamiliar with the Allfather's servants but I am certain that this name has never been spoken in the halls of Asgard."  
  
My eyes widened, a tightness in my chest rising hotly to my head. Who was the stranger from the library? And, more importantly, why did my heart skip a beat at the thought of him?  
  
"My lady?" Sif's worried voice snapped me swiftly out of my reverie.  
  
I forced a reassuring smile. "I am perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern."  
  
After dismissing myself, I too indulged in a hearty mug of alcohol before almost stumbling out into the royal gardens for a breath of fresh air, relishing in the peace and quiet. The night air was cool and quiet, the bushes a deep blue beneath the dark night sky and the roses violet. The tranquil song of the nightingale was all that could be heard amongst the vast array of flowers imbedded neatly into the earth.  
  
I took a deep breath, allowing the anxiety coursing through my veins to escape through the air out of my lungs as I exhaled slowly. This calmed me for a mere moment before I nearly jumped from shock at the touch of an icy hand on my right shoulder. I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut and blindly swinging my fists at the stranger before a familiar voice of silk sliced cleanly through the silent air, resting there like a daunting serpent.  
  
"Ehehe..." that unforgettable coy chuckle made me cease my movements as I met the gaze of none other than 'Einar'.  
  
"Let go of me!" I shrieked in panic, bringing my palm forcefully across his cheek. He brought his hand up to his face, smudging the growing redness with a swipe of his palm, though not ridding his face of that infuriating smirk.  
  
"Your Highness, there is no need to fret. It is only I."  
  
"'No need to fret'?!" I tried desperately to push him away, but to no avail as my arms were no match for his firm grip on my wrists, which he held tightly against his chest. "You dared deceive me as to your true identity! You will tell me who you really are now or you shall be thoroughly puni -!"  
  
"-The roses, though blue under the moonlight, pale in comparison to the sorrow you hold in your eyes."  
  
The stranger leaned forward, slowly, slowly, his lips coming to rest against the side of my ear, gently grazing the tender cartilage as he whispered, causing my breath to hitch in anticipation.  
  
"I hope to Odin that you're ticklish."  
  
Before I could register what had just been said, his arms gripped the sides of my waist and lifted me up into the air; I elicited a shriek with laughter at the sudden touch on my side, a helplessly sensitive area. I kicked aimlessly at the air, trying to scowl but the unintentional tickling prevented me from doing so. Raucous laughter disrupted the quiet that I had originally been seeking.  
  
"Put me down at once! Put. Me. Down!"  
  
Chuckling softly, he proceeded to set me lightly down onto the stone pathway, smiling as I giggled. As my feet reached the ground I found myself unable to pull myself away from this wonderful man - his hands on the small of my back kept me flush against him, trapping me in his embrace. My cheeks grew hot as the coolness of his torso mingled with the burning flame he had ignited within me, sending my mind and soul into a blissful disarray.  
  
He spoke my name, softly, like the mellow falling of snow, "Do you hear that? Our hearts," he took my hand carefully in his and pressed it against centre of his chest, "beating as one. Do you feel it? The link that exists between your heart and mine, the void inside me filled upon receiving your touch."  
  
I could feel his cool breath against my lips with every passing second, time slowing around us until him and I were the only people in the world that mattered.  
  
"Tell me," he said, almost urgently, "tell me you feel the same."  
  
I looked into his eyes, surprised at his pleading expression. All mischief in his eyes had been replaced with sincerity.  
  
"I-I can't."  
  
His face turned dark. "Why not?"  
  
I looked at him incredulously. "'Why not'?! I am married to Thor Odinson, and today is the first time I have met you!" I pushed him away will all the self control I had and turned my back to him. Looking at him would only tempt me further into acting out my sinful desires.  
  
"Love is not measured by time," he argued, wrapping his arms around my frame so that my back was pressed against his torso. He nestled his face into the crook of my neck, the harsh contact with his marble skin sending electric shivers down my spine.  
  
"I don't even know your name!"  
  
"Does it matter who I am?" He held me firmly in his embrace, leaving me not a single chance of escape. "I am infatuated by you."  
  
"That is not love."  
  
"Is that what _he_ can give you?" he sneered, grip tightening, " _'love'_? That imbecile does not _love_ you! He will use you like a worthless plaything and reduce you to nothing more than a whore to cater to his cheap whims!"  
  
"But there is nothing I can do about it, is there!" I spun back round to face him, furious tears streaming down my face. "I don't love him, but I am a woman of honour. I've no choice but to comply with the ways things have been planned and the very least I can do is be a faithful wife."  
  
He shook his head, unwilling to listen to what poured out of my mouth. I could not believe what I was saying either.  
  
"You must feel something for me," he cupped my face, voice wavering with emotion, "something, anything!"  
  
He searched my eyes for an answer but seemed not to find one as they were clouded with tears. His face hovered an inch above mine, and I could see every little imperfection, though none could be found, and every little dip and curve of his features.  
  
I was drowning in want, an uncontrollable want for him - his body, mind and soul...

I had answered his wanton plea in my mind, as if I knew that he would hear me.  
  
_"... Yes."_  
  
Immediately, he claimed my lips in a passionate kiss, ardently cradling the curve of my neck as his arm came to gently rest on my waist. He tasted of mint and ice, of fire and sin, sating the intense craving that devoured my being to the core.  
  
I knew that no matter how hard I tried, my deep desire for this stranger would prevent all men from entering my heart. My heart was bound to him and him alone. My fate had been sealed.  
  
He pulled away, breathing heavily, onyx orbs glazed over with lust, smiling at my eagerness. The ale I had foolishly downed earlier had started to take effect, this was wrong. _No, no, no! This was not right-_  
  
"I assure you, my love, that I have never felt my actions more right than up until this moment," he placed tender kisses along the line of my jaw, making his way down the side of my neck and along my collarbone, nibbling gently at the sensitive skin causing me to suck in a sharp breath of arousal. " **I want you** ," he muttered against my heated flesh, gently reaching behind my back, slowly unlacing the ribbons that held my gown together.  
  
Insides churning with anticipation, I looked deep into his eyes, intoxicated by his beauty beneath the moonlight. With his voice in a low growl, hoarse with want, he whispered into my bare shoulder.  
  
**"Do you want me?"**  
  
I kissed him again on my own accord, passionately, greedily. Every fibre of my being was screaming at me to stop, yet my mind and soul betrayed me. "Take me, please." He wiped away my small tear with his thumb, holding my face delicately in his hands. "Take me away from here. Make me forget we were ever strangers."  
  
None but the moon and the stars bore witness as I allowed the man that had so cleanly stolen my heart, to kiss me. Taste me. Take me, and break me. Make me his beneath the calm evening sky.


	2. Safe Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is the idea of being with Thor really so bad? Or is your desire for his significantly more attractive brother just too great? 
> 
>  
> 
> XD just kidding, I love chris hemsworth

I awoke the next morning to the soft chirping of the birds and the amber magnificence of the sun pouring in through the lavish windows, bathing me in a pleasant, flaxen warmth that placed delightful kisses on all parts that made my naked figure. I attempted to arise from where I lay when I came to the sudden realization of how I had somehow returned to my own bed situated in my new home in the palace of Asgard following the events of last night. I dug deep into the unseen crevices of my mind, trying to generate some recollection of myself undressing and climbing into bed, but surfaced with none. I drank in my surroundings; they were indeed of my new bedchamber. An amiable scent of rosin and sundew filled my senses as I rose from the bed and placed my bare feet on the cold floor, only to cry out due to the sudden sharp sting of pain between my legs. I fell back onto the bed, gasping at the acceleration of my once stable heartbeat. Had it not been for the lone arm that I had supported myself with, I would have ended up on the floor, a mess of sweat and shame to match the coldness of the marble floor.

Memories of what had transpired the night prior flashed vividly across my mind in an erotic, garish blur. The image of two pale bodies, fearlessly intertwined in the darkest pits of scandalous desire, the carnal rise and fall of labored breath, the feel of skin against skin, the moist heat in a haze of passion, the searing intensity of gripping pleasure engulfing my senses, the sweet whisper of forbidden promises...

The obscenity of the pain that paid the price of pleasure, as if it were a punishment for the sin of temptation.

My hands trembled as they gripped the side of the bed - all the warmth within the room that had seeped in through glass panes seemed to leave the way it came while the creeping talons of shame took its place, filling the room with a frigid aura.

I draped a hand across the other side of the bed, heart sinking at the feel of cold linen against my fingertips instead of the heat of my lover's toned, lean chest. I sighed in disappointment, though I could not bring myself to admit the cause of my unease. 

Slowly, I sank back down into bed, pulling the covers over myself until darkness was all I could see and hear. The thought of facing Thor with the very face that had indulged in the elicit caresses of my paramour filled me with shame that scorched my conscience, twisting my thoughts to focus on the endless string of wrongs I had committed in my lifetime. I was drowning, begging for mercy in the unforgiving waters of my own mind until -

I jumped, startled at the three heavy thumps that shook the door. 

"My sweet wife!" Thor boomed, the loudness of his voice reaching my ears vividly even from his position outside, "are you decent?"

Panic filled my chest, heat rising to my cheeks as I glanced worriedly upon my nude body, inspecting it for marks that might have been carelessly made to be sure no suspicion would be raised. I let out a relieved breath at the majority of my skin that remained a milky-white, with the exception of my abdomen that bore a trail of red down the center of my stomach where ivory teeth had teased. My thoughts once again drifted to the unforgettable happenings of that night.

 _What was it that_ he _had said last night, while placing erotic, open-mouthed kisses along my desire-inflamed stomach?_ **"You are most exquisite like this, bare for my eyes only, your back naked, arching with need for my touch..."**

 _Stop it!_ I shook my head in desperation to rid my mind of the filthy thoughts. _Stop it this instant!_

Thor's voice rumbled in through the door, reaching my ears intrusively a second time. I hurriedly grabbed the nearest nightgown that had been neatly draped over a chair and slipped it on without first inspecting myself in the mirror. "I am decent."

Carefully, my husband peered in, stepping inside once his indigo orbs found my form from across the room. Once again a smile had been brought across his face, twisting my insides with a nagging guilt.

"Good morrow to you, my fairest." Thor pressed his lips to my cheek, rough stubble grazing the delicate skin of my jaw.

"Good morrow to you, My Prince."

"Is your bedchamber much to your liking?" asked my husband, looking genuinely interested in my answer.

"My room exceeds my expectations by far, thank you Thor."

"Then I am glad."

We stood, him staring at my lowered face in an awkward silence, his expression morphing surprisingly into one of an apologetic nature.

My brows furrowed in puzzlement and concern for the golden-headed prince. "Whatever is the matter, my prince?"

He cupped my face in his large, calloused hands, careful as if handling the wilting petals of a delicate flower. "I am sorry that I was unable to visit you last night."

Oh, Odin! I had almost forgotten Thor's promise to visit me after the feast so the marriage could be -

_Consummated._

"'Tis alright, My Lord."

"Nay, 'tis not." His hand enveloped mine as his expression turned serious. "You waited for me and I failed to keep my promise. I neglected you, and instead of tending to your needs, I allowed myself to fall into a drunken state. I was a fool. And I am sorry."

I let out a laugh at how ridiculous he was being in a poor attempt to rid my body of the shame coursing wildly through my veins. "My prince, it is really quiet alright -"

I was taken aback as he produced a single rose from his belt, silencing my half-hearted dismissal. It was a lovely hue, the colour of sweetly flushed cheeks and the sunrise at dawn. The meadow-coloured stem was cut short, accentuating the glorious full bloom of the plant - a true beauty amongst the flora of Asgard.

He slipped it carefully into my hair so that it rested on the side of my head, just above my ear.

"I know that this is no compensation for my wrongs," Thor admired his work, a warm smile spreading across his lips, "but I give you my word that I will always be by your side when you are in need of me."

I did not know why, but I was crying - crying tears not of love, but happiness, contentment and gratitude for this man. This... Thunderer, who had been forced as stiffly into a marriage as I had been, but was still willing to honour and respect me and my position as his wife. I had tried so desperately to hate him, think him a brute, but the wallowing guilt within me prevented me from doing so. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to loathe him. I could not hate Thor.

"T-thank you."

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, "have I upset you?"

"No," I replied with a small smile, tears retreating into my eyes with every blink. "You've made me so, so happy."

Hearing this Thor pulled me into a soft embrace, resting his bearded chin snug atop my head. "Then I shall keep you happy till my last Asgardian breath." After a few warm moments I was the first to pull away, too overwhelmed by the mixed rush of happiness and guilt coursing through my veins.

"Will we be joining the Allfather and Allmother in breaking our fast this morn?" I asked timidly.

He placed a hand on my shoulder in approval. "Indeed, my love. They shall be most delighted to speak with you. My brother will also be joining us, and I am certain that he will be most glad to make your acquaintance."

"Your brother?" I inquired, intrigued. "The God of Lies?"

I had heard a good many rumours circulating around the younger prince - one of them being his questionable reputation amongst the young servant girls in the palace.

"Yes, my brother. His name is Loki, a renounced mischief-maker, a great wielder of magic..." Thor trailed off, facing me with a crooked grin, "... and quite the seducer."

An uncontrollable hotness rose to my cheeks. I knew only one seducer, and no man would ever compare.

"I am sure that Prince Loki's... 'skills' do not in the least surpass yours, My Lord."

Thor laughed heartily, his deep tenor bounding off the walls. "You have quite the Silvertongue, just like my brother. I am sure you will get along well."

"Thank you, My Prince."

"Loki is not the only one with certain tricks up his sleeve." Thor whispered, holding my arm in a firm yet gentle grip. "I shall make use of my 'skills' tonight." The seductive wink he displayed for me would have brought any other maiden to her knees. I blushed furiously, shrieking when he buried his bearded chin playfully into my neck. "Now, hurry and dress! Father and mother are waiting at the dining table."

Leaving me to change, Thor had also left me with great trouble in choosing a gown. Atop my vanity lay one of a flaming crimson velvet, with gold thread lining the modest neckline and woven between each seam in lavishly embroidered patterns. It was a short dress that would reach just below my knees at the front, all the while trailing far behind me in my wake. This design was obviously to Thor's taste, and would please him if I chose to don it to breakfast. However...

I glanced at the comparably plainer silk dress folded over the stool, noting that it did not blind me with colour, unlike the one before. It was a wonderful lush green, the tint of glossed leaves, the gleam of a jade icicle. The neckline was lined with finely trimmed leather and the hem with gold thread - an appealing spectacle.

Without a second thought I slipped it on, unable to resist the allure of the gown and how much it resembled _his_ clothing.

I had been intoxicated by ale that night, but these little memories clung to the back of my mind like a vice, and it hurt to try to let them go.

Without time to spare I could only make sure the flower in my hair was in place, hoping it would make up for my sleep-tousled locks.

The King and Queen greeted me with welcoming smiles and open arms as I made my way to take a seat opposite Thor.

"Good morning, King Odin, Queen Frigga." I nodded my head respectfully at the rulers of Asgard whom had also become my parents in law. Despite my reluctance to the marriage it still rang surreal in my mind.

"My dear, did my son not tell you not to address us with these formalities? We are all family here!" The Queen patted my hand, a kind yet lively twinkle in her wise eyes. "You may call me Mother."

"Yes, Allmother." I complied with a smile, still finding it out of place to address her as my own guardian.

"The girl is well-mannered as she is beautiful." stated Odin with pride, leaving me grinning like a fool. "You must treat her well, my son."

"My wife is indeed incomparable," agreed Thor proudly, "I shall shower her in my care to the best of my ability."

I lowered my head gratefully. "I shall be satisfied with whatever you gift me, my prince."

_"She has quite the Silvertongue as well."_

I froze, every muscle in my body tensing at that familiar voice as a sharp coldness enveloped me - that same serpentine smoothness, that round, sly sound...

"Loki!" Frigga beckoned warmly. "Come, my son! Sit." 

_**No, no no no no! It couldn't be -** _

"Yes, mother." To my horror, he slid into the chair to my immediate right. I felt heat rising rapidly to my cheeks, stirring the looming dread in my stomach. 

_This entire time... 'Einar' - was Prince Loki?_

"Are you alright, my child?" asked the King, "all the colour has drained from your face!"

_Had I truly committed adultery with my husband's own brother?_

I looked up at Odin with a forced smile, which ended up resembling more of a wince. "I am well, thank you, Allfather. I am still light-headed from last night's ale, is all."

_And... if I had known, would it change the way my heart beats in sync with his?_

The raven-haired man raked his playful eyes over my dress, lips curling upwards snakily in approval. "Your taste in attire is most applaudable, My Lady."

Frigga smiled proudly. "Indeed, those are Loki's favourite colours. Surely, you shall soon become inseparable!"

Inspecting my agitated state, Thor grew concerned and grasped my hand from across the table. I could have sworn I'd heard the faintest growl of disapproval from my right at this motion. "Do you need rest, my sweet?"

Loki's lips curled a fraction of an inch upwards. "What seems to be the matter, My Lady?" he asked, feigning concern.

I shot him an icy glare, only to receive a mischievous smirk in return.

"I shall grant you leave when you see fit," said the Allfather casually, "you must keep yourself healthy, fit to bear my grandchildren and produce many heirs for the sake of our kingdom."

"Yes, Allfather." I swallowed deeply, already afraid of the prospect.

"Excellent! My son will..."

The King's voice faded abruptly into nothing as white noise filled my ears at the sudden icy sensation dominating my thigh. Slender fingers, ghosting slowly and tantalisingly across my leg, rekindling the flame that had refused to die out within me. Pleasurable shivers washed over me with every touch, causing my thigh to convulse slightly beneath the table. I sensed a lingering gaze searing my skull, sifting through my thoughts. I did not dare meet Loki's eye, in fear that I would lose myself to him right in front of everyone present.

"-wouldn't you agree, child?" The Allfather's voice startled me out of my trance. I panicked, mouth opening to answer but found myself unable to utter a word.

"I would be my pleasure to keep her company." Loki said in an obliged manner as he made sure only I alone knew what dark implications hid beneath his tone. 

"Yes, quite right, father," agreed the elder prince obliviously after a hearty mouthful of wine. "Loki shall show her around the palace until she is fully accustomed to her surroundings." 

The younger prince's icy palm came to rest on my knee, sending a surprising and terrifying jolt through my legs and lower body. The more he caressed me with his finger tips of ice, the more my skin grew hot, goosebumps forming quickly from fear.

Remaining unnoticed from the others at the table, I kept one hand feeding myself with a silver fork, the other cautiously reaching down to my knee. I brushed the wandering hand off of my leg, lips forming a thin line - only to find long fingers tightening immediately round my wrist as his thumb brushed intimately over my racing pulse. 

Suddenly the room seemed akin to an inescapable furnace, with my heart racing at inhuman speed and the colour once again draining from my face like a faded portrait. My grip loosened on my fork, and I winced at the piercing clang of silverware on porcelain. All movement ceased. All eyes turned toward me. A quivering saline bead trickled down my temple in a small runlet, painting a gleaming strip in its trail. Frightened and exhilarated at the same time, I cleared my throat, refusing to meet the eyes of Thor and his parents.

"Apologies, Allfather, Allmother." I stumbled from my seat, forcefully freeing my wrist from the vice-like grip beneath the table. "I have been struck with a ferocious headache."

Thor's features contorted into an expression of immense worry. He stood, catching me in his rippling arms before I could fall to the ground. His arms engulfing me made me feel safe and protected, his kind eyes gentle and affectionate.

"I shall take her to my chambers," said Thor, effortlessly sweeping my limp frame into a bridal carry. 

Loki stood as well and stepped in front of Thor, blocking his path. "Brother, you must stay and break your fast. I shall return her to her bedchamber where she may rest most comfortably."

The Thunderer looked from my half-lidded eyes to his brother's, convinced by Loki's masterful act. He sent me hesitantly into Loki's lean but powerful arms, looking his brother in the eye.

"Care for her well. I shall visit pay visit tonight."

Loki smiled, arms tightening around me. "Rest assured, Thor. You wife is in safe hands."


	3. Recede

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You very well know that the price of honor must be paid to wash you clean of your sins.
> 
>  Also, there's HELLA drama in this chapter.

The comforting brush of cold sheets did much to soothe my pounding heart and frenzied mind as I was laid delicately onto a bed of white. The rush of cold air filling the room in Loki's austere presence left the hairs on my bare skin tingling as I opened my eyes. The room appeared an interesting mesh of cream and vermilion - one that reverted to the familiar surroundings of my chamber once my vision cleared. The sinking feeling of cerulean eyes burning through the back of my head caused me to gulp in a mix of fear, and strangely, anticipation. Taking in a sharp breath, I turned my head slowly to face him.

We gazed into each other's eyes, relishing in the rare moment of being able to see each other in the light of a lover. In those moments when his eyes would meet mine, the world would seem to blur into nothingness; an empty void which only served to compliment his crippling beauty.

Eyes trained on my own, he took a seat on the edge of the bed, pale hand slowly creeping to rest on mine. My heart was sent aflutter as I entwined my fingers eagerly with his.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, eyes filled with affection. 

I loathed it. How the mere thought of his touch sent me weak in the knees. How I would commit any crime without second thought just to be in his presence, even if at the time I had convinced myself that what he felt for me was nowhere near the magnitude of my feelings for him, but a mere infatuation that would fade with time.

How he was an unobtainable lover, on which the fault of his demise would fall on me if our affair ever came to light.

My eyes were trained on his. At that moment, I wondered if his heart had ever been broken; I had to be cruel. Heartless. Colder than the vast, icy plains of Jotunheim.

Exhaling sharply I retracted my hand sharply from his. "Thank you, Prince Loki."

He flinched at the sudden dullness of my expression, brow furrowing in confusion as he spoke my name in question. _Oh, that sweet, sweet sound_ \- the vivid memory of my name rolling off his tongue in a husky moan flooded my ears, enveloping me in insatiable desire once more.

"You may now leave me to my rest. Your help is no longer required."

He seemed taken aback at my curtness, hand moving to touch my face. I turned my head sharply, not allowing his fingers to brush my cheek in the way that I so desperately needed him to.

"My love," he asked in such innocent confusion that pained me, "why are you acting this way?"

Sorrow tasted bitter on my tongue as I caged my tears through gritted teeth. I knew that I could not meet his eyes no matter how much I pined to look upon him, in fear that the seduction of the unattainable prospect of a good future with him would get the better of me.

The warm moisture of my tongue felt hot against my dry lips, soothing the cracks in flaked skin and conscience.

He stared at me in disbelief. I made no response, forcing myself to focus on the intricate floral patterns woven into the silk mattress. But all the beauty the Nine Realms would never compare to the mystical allure of Loki's being - a flame . I imagined his cold eyes narrowing in anger, and my stomach twisted in guilt.

"Look at me," he spoke calmly, though anyone could tell he was anything but calm. I kept silent, afraid of the impending wrath I was aware I had brought upon myself. I prayed silently that he would never hurt me. " _Look at me._ " He hissed through his teeth this time, grabbing my chin roughly to face him as I cried out in terror. I had never thought myself to be afraid of him because of his Jotun heritage, but the sight of his strange other form struck fear into the deepest depths or my heart. I was met with flaming orbs which held the undying passion of glowing blazing cerise, yet served as a furnace in which the golden fires of rage, sadness and betrayal danced. The blue of the deepest ocean made his complexion, swirling in eerie yet beautiful patterns along his features.

" _Why?_ " he whispered, fists clenched till his knuckles turned white. It was more of an agonized gasp; a product of the pain that I was causing him. His steely hold on my delicate skin grew numbing as moments passed dangerously. A calming indigo replaced fiery crimson as Loki closed his eyes, breathing heavily. His breaths turned ragged with hurt, tears stinging at his eyes, which were glazed with despair. In a hoarse, broken whisper, he asked me a question that made my heart catch in my throat.

"Do you love him?"

All thoughts in my mind ceased as I stared in disbelief and incredulity, eyes gleaming with burning sorrow. All worry in my mind had been displaced by the pain I felt from these words. Pain, like a thousand daggers piercing the fragility of my soul.

I had given Loki my heart, mind and body, everything I held dear; every last part of me belonged to him - _and he dared accuse me of loving his brother?_

Slowly the heartache faded; a cold, hollow anger taking its place. My gaze hardened upon the man I loved, defiance evident in their depths. Unsatisfied with my silence, Loki's expression darkened into a frightening mask of fury.

" **I said** ," he roared, his hand violently diving through my locks and pulling roughly at my hair, " _ **do you love him?!**_ " 

His raging stare landed on the flower in my disheveled hair - the only thing that remained beautiful in this painful, ugly scene. Nostrils flaring, I watched in horror and strange intrigue at the currents that continued to weave themselves onto his cobalt skin. Only the fearful wrath in his voice prevented me from reaching out to touch those patterns.

_"Did he give you this?"_

_"Yes!"_

_"Did you let him bed you?!"_

_"No! Please, no-"_

_"You lying delilah!"_

Thor's rose was yanked from the tangles atop my head and thrown to the ground in jealous rage. I cried out, pleading for him to release me. Loki's breaths were heavy, as were mine. The room grew colder by the second, and I could feel a light wind on my face. I looked at him solemnly, an eternity passing before breaking out in mirthless laughter, causing him to search my eyes in confusion, fury disappearing in an instant.

The laughter died down, and all that was left of me was the shell of a person I was tired of being. "I thought-" I tasted salt on my lips, cheek stained with emotions. "- You said you loved me."

Loki cocked his head, still not understanding my meaning. 

"I gave you my heart and soul." My voice dropped to a low whimper. "I gave you my maidenhead. My love, all that I had now belongs to you. And you ask me if I am in love with Thor?!"

Loki watched as I took his hand and pressed it against my chest. I shuddered at the feel of fingertips cool as marble placed over my neck. "Do you hear that?" I sneered, mimicking what he had asked me that unforgettable night. "The shattering of a heart, the destruction caused by you alone."

"I don't understand-" 

"I dared to hope that you actually loved me like you said you did." I brushed my lips softly against his trembling hand, resting my face against its smooth back. "But you lied. Which proves an easy feat for you, 'God of Lies'."

Loki growled in frustration, shaking me roughly by the shoulders. But I felt empty. "What in Odin's name are you talking about, you wench?!"

I let out a short, humourless laugh. "I thought I was in love with a man that loved me as well," I hissed against his ear, making sure he heard every damn word. "But now I know that I am nothing more than a toy you stole from your brave, strong big brother to prove to the world - no, _yourself_ that you are more than just your brother's shadow."

His nostrils flared angrily, and even then he maintained the majestic aura of a jade dragon. 

"How dare you-"

"All you wanted was to claim something of his for your own. You couldn't bear the thought of him having yet another cause for happiness, and so you acted out of raging jealousy!"

"I did not-"

"You took advantage of me." I cried, pushing him off the bed with all the remaining strength I possessed. He fell back, too shocked to resist the weak attack. "I was intoxicated and you knew it!"

He clamoured back onto the bed, opening his mouth to speak but was silenced at my placing my hands on either side of his face. I inched my face closer, and closer, until my lips hovered closely above his, almost touching them. The smell of fresh snow and raw hunger clouded my senses, dizzied me, but I had to stand my ground. I bit my lip, aware of the gravity of the lie I was about to tell.

"You seduced me in a fit of childish jealousy, and I refuse to be a part of this disgusting affair."

"Why?" Loki sneered, shifting back into his striking Asgardian form as he pulled me closer with a forceful hand on my waist, "does thinking of what I did to you that night, the filthy things I made you scream and beg, bring you disgust?"

"Yes." 

 

A single word.

 

A cruel answer.

 

Unwavering.

 

Unfeeling.

 

He seemed shocked at the haste of my answer, as did I. The need to assure myself over and over again that this was for the safety and wellbeing of Loki was strong as I prayed that he would somehow know that none of the lies I was about to tell held any truth.

"Every time your filthy hands roamed my body, every time your lips burned my mouth, every time you entered me, your jaw slack as a drunken lord, I was revolted to the core."

"You whore." he spat, though I could hear the pain behind the feigned menace. I gasped as my neck was entrapped in his vice-like grip, the air sucked out of my lungs in a single moment. I was growing faint, but the determination to break his heart and end this once and for all was greater than my psychical suffering.

Gasping for air, I managed to choke out, "do you.. want... to know... why?"

Loki's hold loosened, as if hearing the cause behind my cruel words would be the death of him. He was shaking. I was trembling in fear and gasping for air as he continued to strangle me. But for him, I wouldn't show it. Because for him, I would do anything. I right at this moment, I had to do everything.

I spat, quietly, uglily into his face, "every time.. you whispered in my ear.. that you loved me... I imagined you... to be my husband... I imagined... him making love to me while... you were!"

The walls pounded upon receiving the crashing impact of a glass vase, books, candelabras and other fragile items flung against them by an invisible force, followed by a deafening silence to balance the numbing volume. The angry flame roared and cackled in the fireplace emitting a sweltering heat into the chamber before dying down to nothing but a grey wisp of smoke. The room grew silent once more. The prince let me go, and I turned sharply away from him.

Afraid to meet the burning agony in his eyes, I said quietly, "leave me be, Prince Loki. Please, for your sake and mine."

With hollow eyes he nodded, staring into nothing for what seemed like an eternity. 

Then I felt a weight lift off the other side of the bed, soulless footsteps echoing in the back of my mind, growing fainter with each step. Immediately the room grew cold as winter and my heart, emptier still.

He was gone.

I closed my eyes gravely, slipping into a sleep where I was haunted by all the ghosts of my sins, rendering me restless.


	4. God Save the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King and Queen of Alfheim pay you visit, bringing interesting news.

A faint whisper echoed through my ears, warm breath soft against the side of my face. My eyes fluttered open when the unintelligible sound cleared into an affectionate call for my name. The earthy scent of musk and ale went to my head, comforting it and dulling the melancholy thoughts that sunk my heart heavy. Burying my face into his broad chest, I inhaled the familiar scent generously, lips curling into a small smile as golden tendrils fell softly onto my face.

_"Thor."_

"My love," he mumbled, hand coming to rest on my forehead. It was large and calloused from battle, warm upon my troubled mind. "You servants made to invite you for dinner in the Great Hall, but came to me when they saw you in your slumber. You have been asleep since this morning. Are you still unwell?"

"No, I- I am well." I glanced at his unconvinced expression with pity. "You did not have to leave your feast to see me, My Lord."

"Nonsense," The prince replied, kissing my cheek tenderly. "You are my wife, and I do not sit and do nothing when my wife is feeling ill."

I laughed at his thoughtfulness, touched by how his eyes of pleasant azure brightened when he was successful in coaxing a smile from me. Just as before, gleaming tears of joy spilled uncontrollably from my eyes.

Thor's smile fell immediately into a horrified frown as he brushed away my tears. "My darling, are you in pain? Should I send for the healers? What has upset you? Have I -"

He was interrupted by my lips falling on his, engulfing them in an affectionate kiss. Surprised by my actions, he stiffened, but took little time to reciprocate this intimate act. I pulled away, blushing intensely as he chuckled.

I needed to bring us closer, ease the bond between man and wife, in order to forget about the ugly deeds I had done against my oblivious husband. Fleeting memories of Loki's passionate, needy touches had flashed across my eyes in a garish blur, swarming my head and heart with guilt yet again. My heart ached to see those green eyes hold the same tenderness towards me as Thor held in his, if it were the last thing I would see before leaving this life.

Suddenly, my back hit the plush white mattress with a thud. Surprised, I met Thor's cyan eyes and was startled to see that his concerned and loving gaze had turned into one of pure desire. Without hesitation he claimed my mouth, tongue swiping across my lower lip in one sensual, fluid movement, no longer holding back. I granted him access, caressing his muscular chest that bulged through the thin fabric of his crimson shirt while he ran his hands over my sides, coming to rest gently on my breasts. The kiss grew hot and lust-filled, and I began to tug at the hem of his shirt in my haze of uncontrollable want.

I felt a firm hand on mine, bringing our flustered act to a halt. "Are you truly ready for this, my love?"

Time slowed, my heart pounding in my ears as I reflected upon my answer. But by then, I had already decided. I had a duty to fulfill, and I would not let one single mistake alter the lives of the people I loved.

_"Yes."_

 

 

 

Zephyr caressed the study in the middle of a cool night in contrast to the blistering, blazen fire burning earnestly in the hearth. I wrapped my arms lovingly around the broad frame of my husband, who was seated in a grand armchair lined with gold and scarlet thread. A crooked smile became his handsome features as he pulled me into his lap, silencing my squeals with a king's handful of kisses. He sighed contentedly with me in his embrace, then returned to his letters. "The King and Queen of Alfheim are expected to pay greetings to the future queen of Asgard on the morrow."

"It has been **two months** ," I leaned over to kiss Thor's cheek, "have they only just been informed of the marriage?"

"Aye, they have been busy with the matters of the realm. The rulers of Vanaheim have yet to agree to their peace treaty."

"Do they mean to propose the possibility of an alliance?"

"They are known to be the most peaceful realms in all of Yggdrasil, though not lacking in political influence. The motive behind this proposal remains a closely-guarded secret."

"Will you ask them to shed light on the matter once they arrive?"

"That is, of course, necessary," he answered, stressed, "though I know not how. They are not easy to persuade."

I sank into deep thought. The rulers of Alfheim were said to be reasonable folk. My eyes came alight with the appearance of an idea. "Why not have the servants prepare goblets of the finest Asgardian silver and napkins of light blue, to appeal to the divinity of the Light Elves?"

Thor inclined his head in peaked interest. "Do you suggest the use of flattery?"

I nodded. "My lord, if I may," I incline my head politely. "It would be wise to gain their trust before introducing the subject of the treaty into the conversation."

Thor gave me a look of admiration and shook his head, as if he could not believe his eyes. "My sweet, that is a grand proposal... but, I shall have to speak to my father if we are to discuss the use of proverbial arse-kissing."

Giggles erupted from the top of my lungs as I slapped his arm playfully, enjoying the warm hum of Thor's rumbling laughter bounding off of the walls. I loved the way the sides of his twinkling eyes crinkled with joy, similar to that of a blessed child. He pulled me into a short kiss, making sure to rub his beard into the sensitive skin of my cheek in an attempt to annoy me.

"But, Thor, my darling, I do not jest!" I insisted as our laughter died down, "it may be that a warm welcome and idle chatter is the key to our success!"

"That is indeed a clever thought..." the crown prince made a mock gesture of deep thought, "but I'll be damned if I kiss the boots of these petty tree-huggers."

I gasped though was unable to control the smile creeping onto my lips. "Must you be so stubborn?"

"You know you love me for it."

He kissed me again, more ardently this time, but did not see my smile fade as he pulled away.

 

 

 

The King and Queen of Alfheim were akin to celestial beings in appearance and the way they seemed to glide effortlessly across the marble halls without making a sound. With skin of ivory and flowing silver locks, they emitted a soft glow that caused all eyes gazed upon them to stay strained on the mirage of fairness and purity that were the rulers of the Light Elves. They were both an elegant height, their figures slender and gracefully sculpted, as were the refined ears that curved gently at their pointed shells. Their robes were of a lavish cream, golden roses embroidered into the fabric from the body to the far silk trail behind them. A vision of majesticity, they each bore a crown of glossed leaves and elderberries - an expression of great wisdom and long life.

In speaking with them I found that they appeared intimidating at first, but had a fragility to them as the gentle wisp of their tone flitted past our ears in greeting.

"So _this_ is the future queen," the Elvenking stated, an air of approval in his speech that made me warm with pride. "She is beautiful - and does not lack intelligence, I sense."

"Your Majesty is too kind." I bowed respectfully, marveling at the swirling embroidery of their robes that were even more entrancing upon closer inspection. I watched as the Queen of Alfheim glided over to greet my husband, her radiant smile never faltering.

"The realm of Alfheim is elated at the news of your marriage, Thor Odinson."

"As is the whole of Asgard at your visit, my Queen." answered Thor, directing a mischievous wink at me over the queen's milky shoulder. It took me great effort not to unleash a fit of giggles in the sacred presence of a Light Elf.

Even from as we were seated across the stretching oak table, the distinct scent of lavender and sun-bathed woodlands did not escape me.

As lush greens were served to our guests on silver platters, Thor notably wrinkled his nose in distaste at the plain vegetables placed before him, while the features of the elves brightened in delight and appreciation.

"Oh, King Odin, you are ever thoughtful."

Odin grinned. "'Twas not I that arranged for your stay, but my good son and his wife."

I wore an obliged smile. "We have always been fond of the healthful prospect of a vegetarian meal, and what better time to host it than the arrival of Your Majesties?"

The Queen beamed gratefully. "Your generosity is overwhelming, my dear," she said, eyes raking the entirety of the dining hall, "but where, might I ask, is the younger prince?"

"The frost giant, you mean." stated the King with distaste, features contorting bitterly. His wife stared at him in shock and anger, emotions that took away from her beauty.

"This is _unacceptable_ \- how many times have I told you not be uncivil towards Prince Loki because of his heritage?!"

"I'll not sit at the same table as a frost giant!"

My insides churned with anger at the ignorance of the Elf king, knuckles turning white as I balled my fists beneath the table. There existed a rage within me that I could not understand - one that gave me the desire to pounce upon him and shout to the world that Loki was the most beautiful being in all of Yggdrasil.

Queen Frigga looked as pained as I to hear her son be the cause for such disgruntlement, and tried to explain that Loki would be down soon, had it been for the utter raucous the old married couple at orchestrated. Before further barbs could be hurled at the name of my prince, I stood. Furious expression was replaced with saccharine smile. 

"I believe that Prince Loki will be arriving shortly. Let us not be interrupted by his tardiness."

Frigga sent me a disapproving but appreciative look, as if she knew that I had told them what they wanted to hear. I returned to my seated position, calmed by the sudden silence that filled the room. I glanced to the left, meeting a deep blue stare of adoration.

"You handle matters well, my light." he murmured, eyes trained on my lips. I had hardly any time to register what was happening before he kissed me in the presence of the four rulers. His lips felt soft, the sweet taste of mulled wine finding my tongue as our eyes fluttered shut.

**"Apologies for my lateness, Your Highnesses."**

I pulled away abruptly, nearly choking at the unmistakable voice that had penetrated the air. I turned and saw none other than Loki, imposing and charming as the night I had met him. Embraced by gold and green attire, the vivid Light Elves almost drained in comparison to the captivating viridescent spectacle of his being.

But despite the polite smile fixed across his refined features, his glaucous eyes were pained and tired, complexion a sickly alabaster upon entering the room.

This was the first time I had seen him since the bitter event of two months before, where I had hurt him beyond repair. If only he knew that it was for his own sake.

He took the seat furthest away from his brother and I, next to the Queen of Alfheim.

Thor bears a mighty grin. "Ah, brother, how lovely of you to finally join us."

"I could not bear the thought of being absent during His and Her Majesties' stay," Loki replied smoothly. Only I could hear the underlying tension in his tone, and see the way his lips pressed into a thin line as he gazed upon my husband.

The sight of my love breaking his fast mere meters away from my grasp was almost unbearable, and even more so when I saw him meet my eyes for a split second before sharply glancing away. I missed the way he pressed me tight against his chest, feeling our hearts beat together as one. I missed his cool lips upon mine with all the passion and tenderness in the world, the exhilarating tang of icy lakes and fresh mint lost within mingled breaths. I ached for his embrace, his palm against my cheek and sweet whispers in my ear.

I wanted everything and nothing.

 

The meal continued smoothly without interruption. Gradually, Thor had introduced the subject of Alfheim's treaty with Vanaheim into casual conversation, following our careful plans. He was not quite so cautious in some areas, almost revealing the true intentions for his prodding at one point, but Loki always made sure to sway their attention with his experienced tongue, and the elves appeared to gloss it over.

We discovered that an elf visiting Nidavellir had been tragically slain by an unknown attacker in her own chambers, thus causing panic and uproar in the realms of the Vanir and the Light Elves. Since the people of Nidavellir were struck by grief, unable to take part in the investigation, the council of Alfheim decided to take action, asking the involvement of Vanaheim's high powers to seek the enemy.

"We did not plan to inform the Aesir of this, in fear of bringing down joyful spirits in the wake of the new marriage."

Odin looked ahead with a grave expression. "It was wise of you to seek our help in times of such tragedy. We shall aid your search for this merciless perpetrator."

As Odin, Frigga and the elves continued to discuss further plans, something strange about the Elvenqueen's wine maid caught my eye. Her face was lowered, servant's cap pulled tightly over her eyes so that no man would gaze upon them. As she poured the dark red liquid into the Elf Queen's crystal goblet, I noticed an odd dust staining her attire that followed her despite the wind blowing in the other direction.

Then, I saw it.

Jovial sunlight, reflected off of a cold, glinting blade, tucked into the belt of her apron.

Without hesitation I stood, chair knocked to the floor as I ran to the Queen's side. Never had I felt such coiling trepidation turn to heated panic course through my veins. Every step I took gave the assassin more time to pull out the knife, as she had surely realized by now that I was aware of her malicious intentions.

I cursed my satin gown for weighing me down as I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, aware that a single second slowed could cost the life of the Queen of Alfheim. It was only a short distance, but at that moment it seemed to be an eternity.

 

The knife was out, but I had already tackled her to the ground. I smiled in relief, but no one in the hall had time to react before a sharp blade sliced through my abdomen.

I fell to my side and she climbed above me, eyes of pure coal gleaming with twisted enjoyment as she brought the knife down into my stomach again, creating a bloodied gash that bled my gown a deeper shade of scarlet. I sputtered, crimson droplets spilling from my mouth as nothing but pain burned through me.

My relentless attacker was pushed off of my limp frame and I sucked in a breath, only to cough and wince at the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I heard numerous voices scream my name - none were recognizable to me except one.

Emerald orbs and raven hair flashed before me in a blurring mural as I felt something drain from my body. I felt a cool hand upon my face and another pressed firmly onto my gaping wounds.

_"No!"_ he gasped hoarsely, as if he wept for me. _"No, please.. my darling, no, not like this, never like this!"_

 

My vision soon faded, and I fell unconscious.


	5. Bergdis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're not out of the game yet, dear reader.
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: To avoid giving away the plot, I will only say that this chapter involves babies (read the tags to be sure but if you don't wanna be spoiled that don't read the tags please)
> 
> I have never *touchwood* experienced anything like what will be mentioned in this chapter, so please forgive me if I sound ignorant about what it feels like or if I get it all wrong. 
> 
> Please do not proceed if you feel that you may be triggered or upset by the content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that this will be quite a short story, so we're just before the halfway mark on this ill-fated tale. A huge thank you to everyone that's left kudos and sweet comments and just everyone that took the time to read my story, whether you liked it or not. I love you all <3
> 
> Also, I made a video for Book of Thorns (yay)  
> Please watch and leave a like if you want! I know I'm not the best vidder but I worked really hard on it :P
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Gp4onvhv4o

Here's another link to the video except it actually works: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Gp4onvhv4o>

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is the beautiful sensation of a familiar cool breath upon my lips that prompts me to call out for him.

 

_Loki..._

 

The warmth of his embrace that ignites untold desires within my soul, bursting with cries of my undying love for him, like the heat of a thousand suns against the icy reaches of his reciprocated devotion.

 

_Loki..._

 

Shameless promises exchanged beneath a clandestine, moonlit sky - shackled vows never to be broken.

 

_Loki..._

 

Those notorious eyes of green; saturated dewdrops upon the aftermath of sweet rainfall.

 

_Loki..._

 

Oh, peaceful thief of my heart,

 

_"Loki..."_

 

Steal me far away.

 

_"Loki -"_

 

I awoke with a jolt, beaded sweat flowing down my sore temples as I cried out at the stinging, intense pain in my abdomen caused by my sudden movement. The sharp sensation wrung my insides for a few tender moments, fading into a tolerable numbness as I felt a strong hand press me down onto the bed. My eyelids peeled open slowly, assessing the comforting scene of velvet drapes and luminescent candles that made the healer's ward. A mild pine incense drifted around the room, gently gliding upon my glistening skin in a cooling touch.

"Be still, Your Highness," said a chastising voice to my left, "or you will open the wounds again."

The healer tending to my wounds had a fair face with a golden head of hair and cheeks flushed with honey. I lifted the warm, beige quilt that covered my injured body to look upon my wounds, which had surprisingly sealed up with darkly caked scabs around each opening over the course of a few hours. The flesh surrounding the two stab wounds held a pinkish hue that felt tender to the touch, but showed the remarkable work of the healer, who, at that moment, was applying a fresh ointment of soothing herbs onto the injuries with slender fingers.

"Thank you..." I hummed in gratitude as the oil was spread across my burning skin in soft swirling motions. 

"You're welcome, Your Highness."

"Pray tell, what is your name, good healer?"

"My name is Bergdis," she answered with a strange stiffness in her tone - a confusing contrast to her initial welcoming expression. "I work under the teachings of Eir, the royal healer."

"Eir's skill shines through in your swift hand, Bergdis. It is thanks to you that I may live to see another day." 

She answered with a smile, though her voice held no appreciation at my praise. "Your Highness is too kind."

My eyes averted to the closed oak doors that kept the ward deathly silent. The white shift I had been changed into hung loosely over my shoulders and straight to my naked ankles, allowing cool air to travel beneath and dance along the fine hairs on my skin. 

"Where is Thor?" I asked casually. I had expected to see him by my side, as he always was whenever I awoke from sleep. His vivid cobalt eyes and victor's grin made for warm and pleasant motivation to see him.

Bergdis' rosy lips fell quickly into a frown. "How strange it is," she mused cautiously, "that you appear to desire your husband, yet the name that falls from your lips in your sleep is that of another man."

Dread loomed inevitably in the very pits of my stomach. All that I felt was fear - a cold, coiling fear that engulfed me like a slowly grasping hand waiting to drag me into the endless depths of complete and utter darkness, where everything I had feared would become a horrific reality. 

I swallowed deeply, eyes hardening as all the signs of health left my face. "... I beg your pardon?"

"And Prince Thor's own brother-!" her brows furrowed in a mixture of horror and sadistic amusement, much to my anger and humiliation. "Who in all of Yggdrasil would have thought!"

"This means  _nothing._ " I spat, my eyes narrowed to slits at this lowly healer, "I am the wife of Thor Odinson. I am to be Queen of this realm, the realm  _you_ live in. So you heard another name slip from my lips,  _what of that_ _?_ No one will take note of what a single healer such as yourself claims to have heard  ** _the Queen_** utter _deliriously_ in her sleep! Furthermore, what proof do you have? What 'crucial piece of evidence' shall you present before the Allfather to have me damned to Hel, and stripped of my position? Is that what you wish? Or do you wish to have your throat slit in your sleep, and your kin gutted in theirs?!"

My lips curled into a satisfied grin at the look of unadulterated fear woven into her features. Never before had I used my power in this manner - not until I realized at that very moment that I could.

But my words were all for naught when Bergdis revealed the hold that she had on me, and it was my turn to feel the unyielding clutches of fear snapping at my heels. 

"I beg of you, Your Highness, I look not for such trouble! Please leave my family be! They had no part in this."

Bergdis gulped and removed her hands from my exposed abdomen. I noticed that they trembled slightly from barely-suppressed anxiety.

"Do not think that I don't still possess the power to crush you, fox." I trusted my voice not to waver, maintaining the steel that kept it strong and threatening.

" _Please,_ " she sighed, almost pleadingly. "I mean to tell you... that you were fortunate to have survived the attack - _but_ _your child was not._ "

This sudden revelation made me pause in my actions, rendering me unable to generate an answer, nor think of anything but the horrid news I had just learned. 

_I had a child?_

My hand came to rest subconsciously on my womb. 

"It was killed due to the rapid blood loss you suffered when you were stabbed, Your Highness. While Eir and a number of other healers were tending to the injuries of the Elf King that he'd sustained when protecting his wife, I did the best that I could alone to save your child - but it was too weak, having been conceived only two months prior. There was nothing more that could have been done."

My eyes fluttered shut as a rush of immense sadness washed over me. I turned my head to the side, away from Bergdis as I wept into the pillow, hoping that it muffled my racked sobs. Fresh tears brimmed at my eyes at the painful realization that I had lost a baby.  _My baby._ A life that I hadn't even been aware had started to grow within me. My very own son. I did not care at that point if anyone saw me weep, for at that moment, I was struck with the most excruciating despair. My lips were parted, quivering as my body shook in grief, yet no cries came from them. Just silent screams holding the multitude of a mother's loss as I held myself in this time of tragedy. 

It seemed to last for hours and hours until my sobs quietened, my outburst of emotion fading into a painful calm. 

"Has Thor been told?" I asked, cringing at the harsh, broken sound of my weakened voice. My lips were dry and salted from the tears I had shed for my lost son.

"No, Your Highness."

I raised my brow in question and anger. "And why is that?! It's his son! He must know!" With heaving breaths, I began to cry again, unable to control my tears in the wake of such happenings. 

"Your Highness..." she paused, pursing her lips in agitation, "I specialize in childbirth and fertility, giving me the ability to sense certain their life force when a child is born. You see, Your Highness, I placed my hand upon your womb and sensed that your son..."

"Spit it out!" I cried, annoyed at her hesitance. Bergdis cast her eyes to the floor in fear.

"I could sense that the child... had not a single drop of Asgardian blood coursing through its veins."

 

_No._

 

_No, no, no, no no no!_

 

 _Not **his**_   _child!_

 

_**Not Loki's son!** _

 

Bile rose in my throat and I leaned over the bed, numbly emptying the mashed contents of my stomach onto the cold marble floor below. I smelt foul and reeked of blood and tears, but I clambered back onto the bed without any thought of the mess I made, being too consumed in an almost maddening despair.

I knew that it was beyond cruel of me to have thought this; I was grateful for Thor's kindness and care in our marriage, but I was _in love_ with his brother, and that made me mourn the child that the latter had fathered a thousand times more.

I was a horrible,  _horrible_ woman.

Maybe this was the will of the gods - those who judged me so righteously and had condemned me to spend my days in misery for my unspeakable crimes against the son of Odin.

But I couldn't help it; I simply could not control the tears that stained the once pristine sheets as I struck the bedpost in agony, numb to the impact of my knuckles against hard mahogany. I was almost completely spent after that, and could only lay there in a limp and motionless mess of exhaustion and harrowing sadness. I felt my chest tighten and my lungs clench as all the breath was sucked from them in my immense tiredness.

"Your Highness?" said Bergdis in a nervous whisper, voice wavering when I turned to her with a deadly glare.

"Who else knows about this?" I asked.

"N-none but I, Your Highness."

My eyes narrowed at the yelp she gave when I enclosed her arm in a steely grip. " **No one** can know."

"Your Highness, please! Do as I ask, a-and I'll not tell a s-soul-"

" _Do you_ ** _dare_** _threaten **me**_ ,  _your future queen?! Do you forget that I could order my guards to plunge a sword into your heart right here, right at this moment?"_

Once again, the look of fear in her pathetic little eyes gave me the smallest satisfaction. I could not believe the audacity of her words, but was interested nonetheless in knowing what I had to do in order for her to keep this secret.

"N-never, Your Majesty!" she cried, falling to the floor. "I beseech you, please, help me! My mother is ill, and will not survive another night in this sweltering Asgardian weather. She is in the city, and none of the royal physicians may tend to her!"

I gazed at the weeping healer in confusion. "And why is that?" 

Bergdis composed herself, sniffling shortly into her sleeve. "My mother's illness is strange, and may only be healed using ancient spells and foreign herbs which far surpass the skills of even Eir, if they are to be used effectively."

"Why come to me for help? Why not simply beg the Allmother to supply you with the scriptures you need?"

The healer licked her lips in anxiety and glanced at me timidly. "Word has it that a master of dark magic hides in the city, selling spells for large amounts of Asgardian coin. He can cure my mother, I know he can! Though I have not the riches for his remedies," she clambered onto the bed and grasped my hands, "but  _you_ do, Your Highness! Please, save my mother!"

"A dark sorcerer? In Asgard?" I yanked my arms away from her weak hold. "Now I know the reason behind your hesitance to seek the Queen's help - dark magic is forbidden in this realm!"

"He is my only hope!" cried Bergdis, limply grasping my struggling arm. " _You_ are my last hope! Please, Your Highness, save my mother! All I need is your word that I make take what I please from your coffers, and no one will ever know of the half Jotun-born child!"

A grunt of pain escaped my lips as one of the closed wounds tore open yet again when I moved to strike the insolent healer. I yelled at her that it was forbidden and I would not betray my King, but she was relentless.

Scrambling back to my blood-soaked bedside, eyes filled with pathetic hope, Bergdis whispered: " _Please,_ _mistress. Please help me, or no one will._ "

From the sadness in her eyes I could gather that this was the last of her begging, as she grew as exhausted as I. I wanted so badly not to help her, and yet -

In my mind came the serene face of Loki as he caressed my cheek with gentle hands - hands that would be in chains should our secret be exposed, never to fall gently on my face in a tender touch again. I thought of his mischievous verdant orbs from which their gaze had the power to make me obey his every command; eyes never to train so affectionately on mine again should he be imprisoned. And his lips... so cold, so passionate, as precious as winter rainfall, and unforgettable as the divine taste of menthol in the aftermath of a kiss. I could taste him and feel him on my skin at the mere thought of the raven-haired prince.

And so, I could not risk losing him.

"Bergdis," I muttered reluctantly, "for the sake of Loki and for the sake of Thor, I grant you riches from my personal coffers to purchase the aid of this dark sorcerer-"

"Oh, bless you, Your Highness," she cried emotionally, crying into my sleeve. "Bless you to Valhalla and back! Thank you, oh, thank you!"

"Get your traitor's hands off of my wounds."

"Oh, Your Highness, I am sorry!" Bergdis moved quickly to peel away my bloodied shift and repair the damage that our dispute had created. The herbal ointment stung tortuously upon first contact, but soothed when she started to utter spells of healing under her breath, closing the torn wound.

"Where is Thor?" I asked as she wrapped my torso in a firm, cream bandage.

"The Prince is in the Council, interrogating the dark elf prisoner."

"A dark elf?" I asked incredulously.

"Aye, Your Highness, 'twas a dark elf that attacked your person."

"Well, what do they want?"

"I do not burden myself with the matters of the realm, Your Highness. Perhaps the Prince will enlighten you when he visits in the morning-"

"-And Loki?"

My smile fell as I registered the words that had mindlessly slipped from my lips, revealing my carelessness in a haze of worry for the younger prince. Bergdis stiffened notably, but carried about with tending to the stab wounds that marked my abdomen in two large gashes.

"Prince Loki has been in his chambers since the events of this morning," she finally answered, choosing her words, "we as servants of the kingdom do not mean to gossip, but... his chambermaids have informed me of his disoriented state."

Worry clutched at my heart as I felt an aching concern resonate from within me. "Is- is he well?"

"I do not know, Your Highness. But I am sure that he will be relieved of the news that you are well."

I scoffed, tone turning bitter. "I am not 'well' _._ "

Bergdis was silent.

When she had changed me into fresh garments and cleaned the bloodied bed, I granted her permission to take as she wished from the small chests placed beneath my vanity. I watched reluctantly as she hoarded gold coins, wares of pearl and the finest Asgardian gems that had been gifted to me by my husband and officials of neighboring realms. I was surprised by the wealth that I had accumulated over the first few months of my marriage.

Bergdis looked at me apologetically one final time before leaving for the city.

 

 

 

My servants assisted me in moving back to my own chambers where I would rest more comfortably, and it wasn't long before Thor came to inquire upon my recovery. He had returned from the meeting, hastily rushing to my side a few moments after I had awoken from sleep yet again - several hours after Bergdis had left with a small portion of my wealth. My husband smelled of frustration and anger, sweat glistening on his skin as fury pulsated from within him in the bulging veins that wove along his neck and arms. No sooner had I turned to meet his gaze did I feel a large, warm hand on my forehead.

"My precious wife," he spoke, placing a relieved kiss on my cheek, "how do you fare?"

"Now that you're here, my Thunderer," I chuckled into his chest, "I have never been better."

I was treated to a hearty laugh that bounded charmingly off the walls as Thor pulled me flush against his broad, armored chest. Endless giggles were coaxed from me in the midst of kisses that were peppered onto my face, neck and temples. When it was over, his smile faded and he cupped my face in his hands, brushing the stray hairs from my eyes.

"The attacker was interrogated today." His expression turned bitter, as if something foul lay on his tongue. "The creature was a dark elf. One of many, sent to eliminate the Light Elf rulers and all who stand in their path of seizing control over Alfheim by force."

"I was not aware that elves still lived in the Dark World!" I gasped disbelievingly. "But why are the elves of Svartalfheim interested in taking over Alfheim?"

"It has been a silent realm ever since The First Battle of Svartalfheim, where the Asgardians emerged victorious, knee-deep in Dark Elf blood. The remaining few must be leading a revolt in attempts to take the next, most unsuspecting realm."

"How dreadful."

"Dreadful indeed, my love." The golden-haired prince exhaled deeply, eyelids fluttering to a close. "There was a time when I could not care less about such matters. When I could down barrel after barrel of mead without consequence, and take as many maidens to my bed as I wished without shame... though none as fair a face and heart as you," he added quickly, making me laugh. "Such were the days of my youth, some hundred years ago. I used to wish for battle, so that I might feel the thrill of smashing the skulls of my enemies, the strength of Mjolnir resonating with power from my lone arm. But now," he hung his head tiredly, "now, I wish for nothing but peace - eternal peace and happiness for myself and those that I hold most dear."

Thor captured my lips in a tender kiss, cradling the back of my neck as I pressed a palm against his breastplate. The pleasant tang of wine and maturity remained on my lips from the fruits of his affection.

"Soon I shall be King, and you, my queen. Together, we will make sure that the people of Asgard live out their days without fear or doubt that we will protect them."

"Yes, My Lord."

He kissed me again before rising from my bedside. "I want nothing more than to stay with you, my darling. But I must go. Father wishes to see me ab-"

"-It's alright, Thor." I laughed, wincing inwardly at the pain that came with it, but was careful to hide my discomfort. "Attend to your duties. I'll be fine."

With a final kiss to my temple, he disappeared from my chambers and into the hallway.

I fell back into a slumber, where my mind was blanketed in dreams of a dark-maned mare galloping amongst a field of green snakes.

 

 

 

The halls were silent as he stalked toward the room just mere footsteps from where he so quietly continued. He could hear his conscience pleading with him not to advance any further, yet his heart beckoned him forward like a siren to a weak-willed sailor. His head was clouded and his steps grew heavier as he neared his destination. He chuckled softly to himself, stopping abruptly by the entrance of a room draped with colors of familiar vermilion and cream - the very nest of his festering heartbreak, and chamber to a sleeping enchantress.

Already, he could hear the soft rise and fall of her breaths, occasionally turning ragged - a sound that hurt him to no end, yet filled him with undeniable desire to be the cause of that shallow, hoarse inhalation, be it through pleasure or exquisite pain. 

Because that was what he needed more than anything - to make her feel the same way she did him.

Without a word, he slipped into the room like a daunting serpent gliding through the shadows while advancing toward the maiden in her undisturbed slumber, all the while marveling at her unmistakable beauty. He stops. Green eyes steadily traced the fragile curve of the neck to a proud shoulder, succeeded by the slender curve and dip of her waist and hip - a breathtaking string woven through her sun-kissed hair that unfolded across her body and ended at the ankles.

_The very ankles that had effortlessly wrapped themselves around his legs, bringing their bodies closer together in a unison of bliss and intense pleasure, while sweat glazed the surfaces of flushed complexions._

He dared bring himself closer to the face that crippled him with overwhelming lust and love, letting out a small sigh of disappointment beneath his breath at the eyelids that forbade him from seeing the beauteous orbs responsible for his undoing. The gentle bridge of her nose led him to her tender lips; ones that drove him mad with the desire to kiss them and quench his thirst for the nectar that poured from her passionate tongue. He brought a hand to his lips... the intoxicating taste of her skin still lingered in his warm mouth.

He smiled. Indeed, he had grown insane - insane with love for this siren who had so swiftly reaped the heart from his body on the night she was supposed to have pledged herself to his glorified brother, but chose to do so to _him_ instead. That sheer fact alone empowered him greatly, causing him to gain so much more than glory.

Unable to restrain himself, he moved to brush a strand of hair from her face with a gentle finger, almost shuddering at the electrifying contact that left him immediately craving more. But his movements ceased when he could not help but notice her features; fixed in a troubled, melancholy expression, causing worry to clench at his heart at the sight of her suffering. _Something so painfully beautiful could not be made to suffer,_ he thinks to himself while hovering a cool hand above her heated forehead, pondering the cause of her sorrow. With the low mutter of a soothing incantation, her furrowed brows broke apart into an expression of complete and utter relaxation, much to his happiness and contentment.

No woman he had ever loved so deeply had managed to shatter his heart so thoroughly through nothing but hateful words. But despite all the happenings of late, his burning love for her remained; ferocious and ardent as the morning sun.

And, just as quietly as he entered, he exited her chambers, once again returning to his own through the vast hallways.

 

 

 

A firm shoulder collided with Sif's as she strode through the halls in search of Thor, knocking her to the side. Her dark locks were disheveled by the impact, but did not prevent her from glaring at the dark figure leaving the scene as swiftly as he had entered it.

As the warrior dusted off her shoulder with a stable hand, she noticed the door of the Lady's chambers slightly ajar, making for a possible, suspicious connection between Thor's pretty little wife and his mischievous, cunning brother.

Eyes of oak trained on the raven-haired prince's back in a steel gaze, the corner of Sif's lips curled up into a crooked smile at her new discovery.

Maybe there _was_ hope for her and Thor after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story used to switch from past to present tense in strange places. But now I've changed everything back to past tense because it was too weird for me. Present tense will only be used when I deem it absolutely necessary.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Leave a kudos if you enjoyed, and stay tuned for the next chapter <3


	6. Sif

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Allmother visits the morning after the accident, and shortly after you decide to catch a breath of fresh air in the gardens.
> 
> But apparently Lady Sif had the same idea.
> 
> Warning: Out of Character Yandere!Sif

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god, I am SO SORRY for not updating in a whole month. But this is not the longest I've gone without updating. Yes, there are plenty of unfinished (and bad) stories dating back to 2013 that I wrote for X Men, the Phantom of the Opera, Doctor Who, Star Trek, Sherlock, etc. on my Quotev account. ALL OF WHICH I AM MOST LIKELY NEVER GOING TO CONTINUE WRITING
> 
> Just like Lady Courtesan. Yep. Lost interest. Sorry.
> 
> I regret to inform you that I have fallen out of love for Loki due to distractions by other beautiful men from various fandoms which has made it harder and less of a priority to finish this fanfic. But I know that I have to get back on track for this one because I really really like it and I trust that you guys do too. Please know that your kind comments and feedback are what keeps this story going and every time I see one of those I write faster XD
> 
> I really planned everything for this story and I would be really disappointed if I didn't finish it for you guys. Also, If I eventually do, this will be my FIRST EVER COMPLETED MULTI-CHAPTER FANFICTION, and YOU GUYS will be the ones who made it happen. 
> 
> That's right, guys. 6 chapters to go.
> 
> Stay tuned for more, and I love you all <3

It seemed that I would never find peace when I was awoken yet again by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing across the marble floor, hastily making their way towards the side of my bed. Instantly, I felt unkempt and improper in the presence of my visitor, having been basked in sweat for almost a day in my translucent nightgown that clung to my skin with the organic adhesive. The light of the morning sun bled through the glass windows and into the room, basking my skin in a tingling orange glow.

Seeing my visitor, I attempted to rise in greeting but was stopped by a hand on my forearm that guided me back onto the bed with the care and authority of none other than the Queen of Asgard.

"Your Majesty-"

"I have told you before that there need not be formalities between us," she smiles fondly, brushing away a matted clump of hair from my moist forehead. "We are family now, my dear. You may call me your mother."

"Yes, Allmother."

She let out a long sigh, placing a kind hand over mine. "The Queen of Alfheim is unharmed, thanks to you, my child. But you must remember that while we cannot be more grateful for your awareness and bravery, you and Thor are the future of Asgard. In order to rule this realm righteously by the King's side, you must first take care of yourself, and your children in the future."

Frigga's lips curled upwards into smile, her expression holding a motherly tenderness as she went to fill a goblet with water for my use. It felt shameful to just sit there, allowing the Queen to pour me a drink in the manner of some royal to a servant, but that was the last of my worries and troubles at that point.

 _You must first take care of yourself, and your children in the future_ , echoed the candid voice of the Allmother in my mind. I made sure that she did not see bitterness take the form of my tightened lips when she returned to my bedside with the golden cup.

"Thank you, Your Maj- _Allmother_ ", I caught myself just in time, grinning at the playfully chastising look Frigga gave me as I greedily quenched my thirst with gleaming liquid that shimmered from the brim of the goblet like the sweet nectar of Asgard's rivers. A pleasured sigh left my lips as a sliver of my strength was replenished by the cool streams traveling down my burning throat.

When I had drained my drink to the last drop, I held the cup in my hands, fingers pressed against the cool, metal carvings and shimmering gems embedded onto the exterior of the golden goblet. My eyes drifted to the Queen's seated form and marveled at how beautiful and kind she looked, despite her age. Robes of sky blue and gold made for a divine compliment to her rosy cheeks and cerulean orbs, much resembling the features of her eldest son. Her gentle lips held a smile that radiated goodness and care into all who laid eyes upon her, spreading warmth throughout the kingdom of Asgard.

I would never be as good a Queen as Frigga.

"Allmother, you have never looked more beautiful." I stated with a genuine smile, my nervousness melting away when a lovely crimson stained the Queen's merry cheeks. She laughed a lovely chuckle and placed a warm hand upon mine.

"Your know how to charm an old crone, my dear."

My eyes widened incredulously at the utterly ridiculous term she had used to describe herself and opened my mouth to object, "but My Queen, you are the Goddess of Marriage, above all Aesir Goddesses, the wife of the Allfather! You are of such beauty and grace, you must not liken yourself to some elderly commoner!"

"Oh, but it is true!" The Queen sighed and took a strand of my hair, stroking it with the soft pad of her thumb before letting it fall back upon my breast. "I am no longer the handsome maiden, fair of face, that diffidently sought Odin's favor some three thousand years ago. You must understand that all things come to an end, child. Odin's reign, for instance - can you believe it? Neither can I."

We shared a laugh, and I realized that this was the first time I had truly felt any semblance of joy since the loss of my child. "I am certain Thor will live up to his father's name... and better", said I, with sincere confidence. Frigga smiled in agreement.

"My time as Queen of Asgard has been so very wonderful. But yours, my dear," she held my face in her gentle hands, "will be _even_ _better._ "

"I have been blessed by your wisdom, my Queen." A strong ray of sunlight shifted into view from the windows, illuminating Frigga's heartwarming features in scattered beams. "I am much in need of instruction - might I be indulged with more words of advice, if Your Majesty does not find it _too_ inconvenient?"

Too my imminent surprise she waved her hand generously in dismissal, signaling that she would be more than pleased to stay here and talk with me for the rest of the morning. I found myself enthralled by her compelling advice, captivated by the Allmother's engaging anecdotes of how she had come to be queen and the responsibilities that followed since her succession. It seemed that we would be chatting all day until she brought up the hardships she had faced in the many stages of parenting her two 'wonderful sons'. As she delved into great detail with stories of Thor's triumphs and failures and Loki's, a sinking feeling in my chest was difficult to ignore. The grief rose to my chest and once again my sorrow was freshened. I did what little I could to hide my pain, gritting my jaw till the flesh of my mouth held a dull ache. In fear of her realizing that something was not in order with my emotions, the first question I could produce slipped clumsily from my lips.

"How is Loki?"  _Oh no. Stupid, foolish little girl!_ "- and Thor, I mean."

Immediately she paused, transfixed on my face that had surely paled from trepidation in the tense moments that followed of the Queen merely looking at me, expressionless. There was something in her eyes, I noticed, something out of the ordinary as it differed from the usual candor that twinkled within those beautiful teal orbs. In this second of aggravation, the lines of her face truly came to my notice and made her seem less celestial than I had initially thought her to be, yet so much more _intimidating._ The crinkles surrounding her eyes suddenly increased, and when I looked to see the cause of this I realized that a sad expression was now etched across her features. The way her eyes never left mine communicated an almost mutual understanding of what transpired within my heart and mind, and as much as a wanted to I could not look away. I could have been under the influence of a powerful spell, but Queen Frigga was far too kind for an unappreciated one. 

When at last she looked away, I let out a breath I was not aware I'd been holding. I nearly laughed at myself for being so afraid of an idea that did not exist. There was no way in the Nine Realms that the Allmother would know anything about my past affair with her younger son, much less... _the child_ I had lost just the day before. 

Or so I thought.

"Thor is well," she answered at last with a smile that was no longer as convincing as all the others, "but eagerly awaits your full recovery so that he may take you riding. I am aware it may seem that he is always preoccupied with his duties as heir, but I ask that you understand the importance that he is involved with the matters of the realm, especially in the light of the recent tragedy that almost cost the life of Asgard's future queen. Thor has come very far since his careless, drunken ways and has grown into the King Asgard truly needs, and for that I could not be more proud. He is deeply worried for your well-being and visits as often as is possible for a stubborn man like him."

I joined Frigga in a fit of chuckles and replied, "Indeed, Your Majesty. Prince Thor has treated me so well, I could not ask for a more thoughtful husband."

I had lied through my teeth so many times that these words of deceit, entrapped in their pearly casing, came as smoothly as fingertips dancing across a sheet of glass. But this time the lie held much truth, which caused the creeping tendrils of guilt to seize the depths of my stomach. 

Her eyes were trained on me yet again in uncomfortable silence before she broke it in a strangely cautious tone of voice. That was when my fears began to come to reality. 

"Loki has not been seen outside of his room since... the incident. As his mother, I worry for him greatly. The servants seem to believe he has gone mad, having seen the disorientated state of his chambers and person-" The Queen chokes with a worried sob, tears gleaming at her eyes at the mention of her troubled son. "I refuse to believe it, but I cannot ignore this drastic change in behavior of his. It is very troubling and disturbs me to the core as his mother." I watched as she wiped away her tears with the lush green velvet of her sleeve, vast emotions brought out within myself as well from what I was hearing about the man I loved, and the pain he was in. Loki's pain, Frigga's agony - I was the cause of it all. The sole perpetrator of their despair.

_"Allmother..."_

_"_ Yes, my child?"

 _ **Will Loki be alright?** _ I wanted to ask her so desperately, knowing that she was as blind as I as to the answer. But I cleared my throat in an effort to keep my voice from wavering."Though the reason for his state is unknown, I am sure Prince Loki will undoubtedly return to the way he once was."

At this, the Queen looked down at me with the most sorrowful smile I had ever seen. " _The way he once was...",_ she repeated my words in a tone of... not mirth, but hopelessness, like the sound of one's dreams shattering into the wind, scattered across unreachable plains. "Loki has not been the same since he discovered his Jotun heritage. He is as stubborn as his brother - even  _more so,_ if I am to be honest. Somehow he cannot bring himself to believe that we still love him unconditionally, just as we have and always will, regardless of the Jotun blood that runs through his veins. He fails to see that we are his family, and that we have cared and sheltered him ever since Odin brought him home to us as an infant, left to die on a frozen rock. The Loki I raised was a confident, happy, albeit mischievous young man to whom I taught my magic and entrusted my skills, just as Odin trained and placed his faith in Thor. He may be Laufey's son, but we - Thor, Odin and I, and now you, are his true family."

 

 

 

The Queen's confession left me affected, her words almost harrowing in their intensity as they continued to echo through my mind long after her visit. Despite not having moved from my bed I was exhausted. As soon as the sound of her leave found my ears, I let my emotions run free while I buried my face into the sheets. I wept and wailed, clutched at my stomach, clawed at my own throat, trying to feel some semblance of the pain I felt that had no physical shape or form I could tear in to. It seemed like a massive striking to the face, really, at the way thoughts of Loki, Thor, Frigga and my lost son were all lined up before me as if to mock and jeer at every mistake and failure I had come across in the short span of my life up till that moment. 

There I lay, tired and drenched in the aftermath of the sudden wave of self-loathing that had washed over me. The weight of my eyelids were exasperating to ignore as they slowly fell to a close...

But my eyes shot open and I sat up. _Enough rest,_ I told myself,  _and no more crying._  

I was unsure if it held any meaning or that it was merely the first place I arrived at, but I soon found myself standing in the twisting, turning pathways of the royal garden. The floral arrangements looked even more beautiful in the amber daylight which brought out vibrant hues of violet and golds, which could never be seen in the dark. The scent of roses, so explicit in its strength, combined with just me being back here where it all began - brought a deranged sense of peace and closure to my mind. 

A single white rose caught my attention and without hesitation I reached for it, fingers closing around its thorny stem. I plucked the flower from the bush and brought it to my nose, drinking its intoxicating fragrance as its tender petals brushed across my lips. 

"My Lady?"

I turned to see Lady Sif dressed modestly in a plain beige dress, raven tresses tumbling from her shoulders. I suddenly felt just a tad under-dressed in my loose chemise that clung to my skin from the sweat induced while making my way to the gardens.

"Lady Sif!" I exclaimed awkwardly, the words coming through as more of a question. "Your attire becomes you."

Her lips were pursed as she lowered her head with respect. "Thank you, Your Highness. Forgive me for my boldness, but, should Your Highness not be resting within the safety of your chambers to ensure a hasty recovery?"

"I thank you for your concern, Lady Sif. I thought the crisp morning air would do my pained lungs some good."

"Your Highness, if I may," she met my eyes with an air of disapproval in hers, "Prince Thor would surely worry when he finds that you are not in your bed."

"Well, I shall just make sure he never does!" A giggle escaped my mouth in an attempt to familiarize myself with the beautiful warrior. But the frown did not leave her face, as if etched into her stern features like that of the many statues decorating the gardens. 

"It is my duty to protect and serve your as I serve the Prince. Allow me to escort you back to your chambers."

"Oh, your thoughtfulness is much appreciated. But it really isn't necessary, as I really would like to take a nice stroll-"

"- I insist."

I met her powerful stare, sensing for the first time that something was amiss. The dark pits of her eyes, the stiffness in her shoulders and brow all communicated an unsettling message. Perhaps it was the first slither of impending danger that caused my eyes to narrow carefully, alert and prepared to handle the situation with care.

"Lady Sif," my tongue darted out to soothe the crack in my lip, "I could not be more grateful for your sincerity, but I really am fine on my own. I would like to take a morning walk and admire the wonders of Asgard's flora."

"You are to be  _Queen,_ My Lady. It would be dutiful of you to act responsibly."

With Bergdis, I had seen the look of immediate regret in her eyes after disrespectful comments had spewed from her tongue, but not with Sif. All I could see in her face was distaste... a subtle anger, even. And hatred. 

And those mahogany orbs told me that she was every bit as aware of her dislike for me as I.

I felt the skin on my cheeks tighten along with my smile while my expression morphed into one of a devilish, fiendish nature. She was just a hopeless competitor, nothing more.

"I would appreciate it very much if you would not speak in such a distasteful tone towards me. I am soon to be queen, after all."

"Oh, but I do enjoy a little amusement every once in a while."

By now we were mere inches from one another; minuscule distances within distances separated us physically, yet did not prevent her spite of me from radiating off of her, engulfing my form, seeping in my pores and coursing through my veins like an exhilarating acid. It burned away at me slowly, _but that was alright,_ I assured myself.  _As long as my loathing eats at her core just as she does mine._ The morning breeze and the leaves scuttling at our feet went unnoticed as she bore into my skull with frightening intensity, just as I did the same to her. Being trapped with Sif in this duel of hate was akin to suffocating in a furnace together, waiting to see who would burn to death first. The tension in the air made my head spin and the contents in my stomach lurch, and any sound, touch or movement would cause it to be broken, allowing one of us to erupt. 

"What is the meaning of this, Sif?"

The warrior feigned confusion, yet mockery dripped from her tone. "I'm afraid I don't understand-"

"I am confident that you understand completely." I snapped, disgruntled that she seemed to be enjoying this far more than I was. "Surely  _my husband_ would be distressed to hear of the utter insolence that his wife has been subjected to... by none other than his ever loyal warrioress friend."

I lost myself in rage, rendering my feelings transparent to the one person upon whom I needed to impose fear. I almost gasped at this sudden deviation from my normally composed attitude, as I had always been able to suppress my anger and distaste with a collected facade - but something about her ticked her off, and she had found her way beneath my skin. Losing my composure had never once been a problem yet it was happening at the worst possible moment.  _"You must always wear a smile, no matter how many barbs are thrown your way; your beauty is your greatest weapon",_ mother's stern voice echoed in my mind. 

Sif's prominent frown hardened into a sneer. "'Ever loyal'? Hm, on that, Your Highness, we are agreed. But whether I would use the phrase to describe you, I am not so sure."

Fury stirred in my chest, but sunk to the ground when realization dawned over me. Did Sif... somehow  _know_ _?_ Surely not! I was sure my face had paled from fear at this bold insinuation. Every slither of confidence that had filled my heart was gone, leaving only a hammering terror.

I cleared my throat, determined to keep my voice from trembling. "Are you making an implication of some sort, Lady Sif?"

I had to proceed with caution, testing the waters before unleashing my wrath upon this unnervingly fearless woman. For my entire life I had acquired to become the snake in the midst of careless sheep, striking when necessary while remaining unseen. And now, an eagle scoured the ground from above, flying dangerously close to the slipping serpent.

"Not only do I make an implication, Your Highness, I am accusing you of adultery - an offense against the crown, betrayal of the Prince, a disgrace to the kingdom of Asgard and to the realm you hail from as well! You have committed treason of the highest sort and will be tried for your crimes."   

The ravenous bird swooped down from the skies, icy talons ripping the serpent from the hoard of innocent lambs, taking it up and away into the unfriendly air.

My heart had ceased to beat as the blood drained from my lips, painting my skin a sickly hue. I was trembling now, tears forming in my eyes from my first taste of hopelessness while an unexplainable coldness devoured me slowly, numbing me from the very core of my helpless soul. 

Yet still, stubborn as I was, I would not give up so easily. What propelled me to laugh in the face of impending death was lost on me, but a giggle left my throat without warning, slicing through the thick air. Then came another. And another. And soon I doubled over, placing a hand on my abdomen from the pain of both the contractions from howling laughter and the harsh jolts of agony from my wound. I drank her confusion gladly, wiping away a tear from my eye as the laughter died down. 

"OH, oh, Lady Sif, you are exemplary with jests!" The corners of my lips curled up into a malicious smile. "You would be entertaining to us as a town jester, seeing as your life has been made up of such hilarity. Perhaps you would consider performing at the upcoming ball?"

Now it was her turn to clench her jaw with a glare so frightening I would have been murdered if looks could indeed kill a man. And I was all the happier to see it.

"An interesting suggestion, My Lady, but I do not jest. Especially when Prince Thor, whom I have sworn to protect with my life, has been betrayed by the snake who is to be Queen of this realm."

"I shan't listen to these empty accusations when they hold no substance to support them. Unless you have evidence of the supposed 'adultery', I shall confess immediately before everyone in court."

This was a rather risque gamble, but something in me was sure she hadn't the evidence to incriminate me just yet.

Sif shot forward, pressing her forehead to mine so that her steely eyes were all that I saw. I would have been lying if I said her boldness had not startled me. Her breath was hot when mingled with mine; I wondered why admirers still had yet to come her way, as she really was exquisite.

"I saw Prince Loki leave your room last night," she snarled into my face, " _alone._ "

I looked at her with puzzlement. Either she had mistaken someone else for Loki as they left my chambers, or she was merely conjuring stories to justify the empty threats she was throwing my way for if Loki had truly visited the night before, I had been unaware of his presence.

But something in her eyes indicated truth, and even I knew Sif was not one to act so discordantly because of a nonexistent occurrence.

Could it be?

"That is hardly anything to base your sloppily-made conclusions upon."

"As of the past few months, the Prince has been seen outside of his room only rarely. Yet I witnessed him leaving your chambers last night appearing... _emotionally compromised_."

"I was asleep at the time you speak of and I am certain Prince Loki heard about the attack and came to see how I faired out of concern."

"Too much concern, do you not think, Your Highness?"

"I really wouldn't blame him. I am the future queen, after all."

Sif was silent; the only sound I could hear coming from deep exhales escaping her flared nostrils. Her eyes were trained ever so tightly on mine and I almost found myself lost within the dark forests that were the depths of her scorching gaze.

"You may have his heart, but you shall never be worthy of him. And no matter how aggravating the task shall be, I will gather enough evidence to have you executed - as payment for hurting him."

"At the very least, Thor _loves_ me." She stepped away with a sharp intake of breath, eyes closing in pain. I knew that I had gotten to her. "Don't you understand, Lady Sif? You are the finest warrior in all of Asgard, and the best to have fought by his side... if it's any consolation, he will  _never_ think of you otherwise."

I flinched as she whipped around, pupils now reduced to dark pits on each side of her head. Although they were frightening, the sadness hidden within had slowly surfaced. Sympathy almost conquered my hate for her. After an unending silence full of wallowing emotions, Sif inclined her head in a stiff gesture and coldly retreated.

"Apologies, Your Highness. I take my leave."

Then she was gone. Without a trace, without another word, leaving me in the dust. But I was glad. I let out a breath that had gone stale from being held in my constricted lungs for so long a moment and under such distressing circumstances.

I glanced down at the innocent flower still in my grasp and wordlessly slipped it into my hair, while guilt continued to quiver in my stomach.


	7. Dance With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Allmother decides to hold a ball in which respected maidens from all across Yggdrasil are encouraged to attend in hopes of winning Loki's hand in marriage, should he come to favor one of them from amongst the crowd.
> 
> But, as you know, his heart has already been stolen by the one maiden he can never have.
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: RAPID AND CONFUSING SWITCH OF POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot thank you guys enough for all your wonderful comments on this story, which happens to be my favorite. I'm not a magnificent writer but I do try, especially when I care this much about my characters. 
> 
> Also, I would like to address something that plays a major part in the story. If you don't like reading author's notes, it's okay because this is going to be a ramble of MY opinion. Okay, here goes. I am perfectly aware that the reader and Loki fell in love at first meeting, and how unrealistic and cheesy that sounds. But, funfact: it IS POSSIBLE. This is not just immediate sexual attraction, although sexual attraction plays a MAJOR part in this story (you pervs would know). Loki disguised himself as 'Einar' and met her in the library. Up until the garden scene, both you and him have heard each other's voices, seen what each other look like, had a taste of each other's mannerisms and characteristics and heck, even SMELLED each other's scent. Combined with the initial 'lightning bolt attraction' where you find each other's appearance alluring, the little time you had spent with him until the gardens is already enough to create a deep understanding between you two because of all these factors you've been treated to that fit your preference. This is extremely rare of course, as a profound relationship is probably about 95% built on slow burning affection, but when such a strong, raw and intense attraction between two people occur at first sight, only little time is needed before they become inseparable.  
> And since the reader's character has been thrown into a marriage she didn't want, her feelings for Loki are magnified immensely because she feels safety in staying true to her own emotions.  
> In Loki's perspective, there was also that sudden intense intrigue that he had when he first laid eyes on you, but there's also that jealousy he has for his brother that makes him want all that he has. Loki is also knows that because he's a frost giant, it is hard for any woman to love him for reasons other than marrying into the royal family and his charming Asgardian form, but YOU do. He knows this because you loved him even when he was 'Einar'.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading and to those who have been sticking with Book of Thorns despite its exasperatingly unreasonable update schedule.

Sif stared blankly at the luxurious garb draped neatly across the chair of her dresser. It was a fine shade of violet crafted with expensive silk by the hands of who Sif guessed was most likely one of the best dressmakers in Asgard. The dress was gifted to her by the Queen for the sole purpose of attending the ball for which she was supposed to be preparing. The room was warm and dim from the setting sun, with the last of its light glimmering upon the silver gems embedding each seam of the ballgown before it sunk into the hungry mountains. 

The dress beckoned her, called out to her so fiercely she thought it had whispered to her to don it. Yet she could not; for there was something about the attire that seemed so... dreadfully materialistic, and reminded her of all the things she wished to forget.

She stood, still clad in the armor that defined her; made her who she was.  _What_ she was.

_"You are the finest warrior in all of Asgard, and the best to have fought by his side. If it's any consolation, he will **never** think of you otherwise."_

Suddenly Sif wanted to scream, loud enough for all to hear, loud enough to drown out the sympathetic voice of that infernal woman that would not cease to ring raucously in her ears, taunting her. The fact that these words still affected her two weeks after the confrontation infuriated Sif; all her efforts at avoiding contact of any form with Thor's wife had been for naught. Her tone had held sympathy, but Sif knew she hadn't really meant to assure her of Thor's appreciation for her skills on the battlefield. 

She had stated it to gloat, to mock her for her unrequited devotion.

 _How had she come to know of this?_ Sif tore angrily at the steel pieces adorning her body and watched as they fell to the floor with an earsplitting clank. The warm evening air hit a new part of her ivory skin each time a new piece of clothing was shed - first her armor, then her corset, undergarments, belt, boots. She was now bare, exposed completely to the gradually cooling breeze, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat outlining her lithe frame. 

Looking into the mirror she let out a small sigh of frustration at the dirt that had gathered in clumps, clinging to her skin and hair from the afternoon training.

 _The body of a warrior,_ thought the troubled goddess, wryly.

A change would be nice. To step out of her warrior's skin, put on a lovely dress and pretend that she was the fairest of maidens in Asgard, worthy of a Prince's favor. 

To imagine that someway, somehow... she stood a chance to be with him. 

Almost scrambling into the bath she rinsed the grime from her glistening skin, lathering her shoulders with the scented suds. The water was warm and welcoming and contrasted pleasantly to the coolness of the evening breeze, submerging her body in a blissful sensation. Sif inhaled deeply, catching the scent of roses from the fragrant soaps she had bathed in. 

_Roses._

She scrubbed herself ferociously after that and was finished in mere moments before drying herself with a towel. Before regret could settle in, she took the dress from the chair and slipped into it smoothly, watching as the bodice clung to her torso like a second skin. 

Sif was beautiful. Or at least, she thought she  _looked_ beautiful. 

The ebony roots from which her hair stemmed were made bold upon her milky forehead, as were her brows and the dark taupe of her eyes. The lavender of the gown settled nicely upon the ivory of her complexion, hinting at untold secrets while the glinting gems aligned every crease and edge. This was the most feminine piece of attire she owned and yet it made her feel so strange - like she had stolen the shell of a noblewoman. 

After a moment of contemplation Sif called the servants in to pull her locks into an appropriate style just minutes before the Hall was to be opened to guests.

 _Perhaps,_ she thought,  _things will change tonight._

 

 

 

"Thor?"

The golden-haired prince turned, "yes, my love?"

"I-I am afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

I glanced at the floor sheepishly and bit my lip. Meeting his questioning gaze I could only offer a meager smile in return. Thor lifted my chin with a gentle finger.

He repeated himself when I failed to answer. "What is troubling you, my fairest?"

_I cannot bear the thought of Loki marrying another woman._

I stepped away from him so that my back was all that could be seen, cheeks burning crimson. "I am worried, Thor, that I shall forget the dance we have practiced and cause you embarrassment amongst your guests instead."

I turned to see him chuckling softly, eyes twinkling with a teasing light when I had calmed myself enough to meet his eye. "And why, by Odin's beard, would you think that?!" 

"Don't laugh at me like that! You know I can't dance!" I cried, genuinely serious, which only served to turn his chuckling into resounding laughter. By now I was fuming with shame, making to retaliate only to yelp in surprise when he pulled me flush against him and ravished my face with kisses.

"Thor, stop it! Thor, I am serious! Thor!  _Thor!"_

In spite of myself I laughed, allowing my husband to relish in the glory of having drawn a giggle from my lips after I'd looked on him in anger. Heat rose to my face and I felt the frustration drain from my fingertips and through my toes, tension fading as I melted into his hearty embrace. I fed on his warmth and drank his kindness deep; my fingers gripped the deep maroon of his inner tunic as I held on to his love in fear of losing it.

Thor pulled away and cupped my cheek as his eyes roamed my figure with vigor in his movements. "Trust me when I say that from these travelling maidens, you shall be the most beautiful."

"And how exactly would you know, without even having seen these other women?" I asked with mock suspicion and a twinge of a smile.

I drew in a sharp breath when he darted behind me, pressing my back against his broad torso while his lips found the back of my ear, leaving a ticklish trail to the side of my neck, across my trapezius to my shoulder, trimmed stubble grazing my skin with each touch.

Against my shoulder I caught him murmur, "you are the only woman I want to see."

_"Thor..."_

 

**_I am infatuated by you._ **

 

Thor's mouth turned to shards of ice - cold and numb to my trembling body. If he had continued to kiss me, I feared that I would freeze over, paralyzed in a stone encasement of my own shame. Yet that voice... **_his_**   _voice!_ It would not cease to torment and twist me from within.

 

**_I feel as if a link exists between your heart and mine._ **

 

My stomach lurched. The past had come to taunt me again, using  _his voice_ as its unholy prophet. The dim candlelight allowing a thread of visibility between Thor and I began to glow, brighter and more scintillating than any flare of yellow I had ever seen. The dark halls around us seemed to shrink and blur before my eyes and before long, everything spun into motion.

The sight was garish in its intensity. Visions of my mother and father came to mind in fleeting frames. Then the golden shimmer of a lake from my childhood residence and the friends I had left behind on my realm. And the vibrancy of Asgard's incandescence blinding me upon my arrival. King Odin's ashen beard and Frigga's welcoming arms, stretching out to embrace her son's reluctant bride. The glaring reds and resplendent golds of a lavish wedding ceremony. All eyes on me, every head turned in the direction of their future queen as she spoke her vows, _swore_  her undying loyalty to the crown prince of Asgard...

Green eyes burning into the back of my head all the while.

 

**_You are mine, and mine alone._ **

 

Then there was Loki, with his raven hair and unmistakable smirk. His eyes - emerald cesspools filled with notorious mischief, a gleam of cunning concealing the bottled years of envy and despair within his misunderstood soul. The orbs made for an endless maze, twisting and turning, leading so far into his past so that those who dared lose themselves within them might taste the bitter torture of neglect and deprivation of love he himself had known his whole life.

I felt his smoldering touch, heard his desperate pleas and ragged breath. His voice enrapturing me and claiming me while I begged him relentlessly with my own. The slick heat of his stomach, the gleam of pale hands dominating heated flesh, manipulating my very being into submission. The sheer intensity of it all - his name on my tongue, mine on his, my heart in his grasp, his trapped in mine. The clutches of passion and my inability to escape from my darkest desires.

And _love_.

The rose which, without rhyme or reason, had chosen to bloom from nothing.

What I felt for him was _love_ \- so deep and profound in the multitude of my feelings for him that it could not be described by the most powerful of words, or in coin or speech. It was tumultuous, monstrouseven, yet since the moment I had laid eyes on him in the library where it all began I had wound up in his arms, ensnared in a dance of lust and  _sweet, sweet **truth.**_

For that was what I sought. **Truth** , out of every lie and fable I had told to snake my way out of trouble and onto the throne. **Truth, for it was I that had heard word of Prince Thor's preference for the color red, and dressed accordingly at our first meeting to catch his eye.**  'Duty before pleasure', I was taught repeatedly, until I had convinced myself that I did not need the latter.

Yet I needed Loki, because I could shout to the world: " _I love him!"_ and not feel guilt or emptiness each time I made this claim to Thor. Loki was the only semblance of truth that remained for me - salvation that had come from our sin, light that had emerged from the darkness. He was, in the ironic sense, my one chance at redemption.

As if to add to the realization I recalled the coldness of Thor's kiss - the emptiness I had felt, and the foul aftertaste of guilt that followed every time he treated me with respect and unreciprocated care. 

Then black, murderous eyes flitted past my vision and there was the memory of pain; unspeakable pain from the edge of a dagger. Cold and merciless, piercing through my abdomen, past the veil of muscle until it had punctured the womb beneath. Not severe enough to end **my** life, but...

I shuddered at the sight of crimson, bleeding through my dress, wet and warm and stinking of copper as a life was lost inside of me. _To Hel with the Queen of Alfheim, to all of them! I did not need them!_

This was not what I wanted! I wanted so desperately to settle with Thor's affection and find satisfaction in the security of living a lie, but my heart forbade me from doing so. I craved for the man I loved to claim me and breathe new life into the dead silence that was my body. If it were not for this blasted duty to both my family and Thor's, I would throw myself into Loki's passionate embrace and elope... far, far from those amidst the destruction I had already caused.

 

I jerked away from Thor's gentle hold and gave in to the abrupt change of my behavior. My eyes flew shut as I held on to a stone pillar, gaining stability through the coldness beneath my palm. I exhaled deep and gradual and awaited the fade of the dizzying visions. 

When at last I opened them, Thor was looking upon me with a concern that gnawed at my heart. It was so genuine, so heartbroken - I wondered if he would still feel the same if he knew he'd taken a viper for a wife.

"What is it, my sweet?" He stepped towards me hesitantly as if he were afraid I'd run from him again. His gaze flitted to my stomach and I followed it, noticing that I was holding my lower middle with a shaking, pallid hand. I dropped it immediately, fire brimming at my eyes.

"You are trembling." he whispered, more in question than in statement. I shot him a smile (which was more of a wince) without meeting his worried gaze.

"I am alright." I cringed inwardly.  _Another lie._ "I am merely nervous that I will cause you shame."

My tone was tight and I was afraid of knowing what expression he wore. I would be forced to end myself if he bore yet another worried yet oblivious face to remind me of everything and everyone I did not deserve.

Instead he spoke, with a soft voice: "You could never cause me shame."

_I doubt that quite sincerely._

"But I just know I'll fall over."

"Then I shall be there to sweep you off of your feet and make you try again."

"But I shall fail again after that, over and over until you tire of me."

With that Thor laughed, lifting a small weight from my chest. "Then I shall catch you, time and time again, until you finally manage to dance without care of how others see you."

Frustrated, I sighed. "It matters what they think, Thor! They need to trust in a queen, not some clumsy, deficient foreigner!"

"You are not deficient. You possess intelligence surpassing that of many if not all maidens of this realm _and_ the next. 'Twas you who proposed that we preserve leftovers from our royal feasts to feed the poor. _You alone_ who granted post to the people of Asgard and gave them a means to give, make use of their skills and earn. Were it not for you, the Queen of Alfheim would be long gone, plunging an entire realm into imminent chaos."

The seriousness and gratitude in his eyes scared me, for it was unusual for the golden-haired prince to act this way. He merely sighed, "Heimdall brings news of a dark force concealed amongst the commoners in the city. We are uninformed as to whether this poses a threat. Were it not for you handling most of the other issues, the council would surely have collapsed beneath the strain of overwhelming responsibility."

My breath hitched in my throat at the mention of dark magic in the city, but was unable to continue this thought before I found myself wrapped in the safety of his reassuring arms. The scale of him was truly glorious and so very intimidating for those who had yet to be treated to his sentimentality. I surrendered and melted into his embrace, for it was far easier to take than to give.

"Now come," he held out an arm, which I took with relief. "The Allfather is expecting us."

 

 

 

A crowd of boisterous nobles fell silent as the great doors parted with a prolonged creek; a sound that hinted at an arrival most grand, the age old movement of steel hinges that begged the attention of every lord and lady to turn their heads. They were all too familiar with the majesticity of that resonating note. It had stunned those within the hall into immediate quietude for many a century. Every instance it was heard it had earned the respect of guests, because with this sound, they were prepared for who would walk through these doors.

King Odin and his Queen were already seated on their respective thrones while the Warriors Three and Lady Sif stood dutifully by their side. They too turned to stare at the figures stood atop the royal staircase.

Even from such great distance, Sif could make out the handsome features of Prince Thor and the manipulative nature of his wife's smile. She sneered inwardly at the sight of the woman who had caused her such humiliation. She could almost feel her,  _smell_ her arrogance, her superiority and cunning. This harlot couldn't have truly cared for the villagers of Asgard when she'd made her 'saintly' proposals, could she? No, this woman had to be a snake - one that never gave willingly without first assessing the benefits.

She was perfect for  _him._

Sif could only watch in silent despair while Thor seemed to whisper something in his wife's ear, leaning ever so close to her sickeningly beautiful person. The envy cracked and boiled beneath Sif's skin;  _she_ should be the one up there, the one to possess the right to call him hers. Her fists had clenched, knuckles paling, nails digging painfully into her palm yet Sif was numb to every emotion except envy. It dominated her thoughts and clouded her judgement, completely severing all attachment to reason and calm in her mind. Of all the years seeing Thor emerge from his chambers with barely-clothed whores, this mere gesture of affection now twisted and broke something within Sif. 

That serpent did not deserve him. No, she could not just stand and watch as such injustice took place. She had to do  _something._

The warrioress cast a glance at Loki who was not granted a seat despite his title, instead having to stand by the King in his illustrious green and gold attire. 

She smiled crookedly.  _Fitting for a Jotun._

The stiffness of his posture as he gazed at his brother's bride only served to widen the smile of the eagle observing. Sif noticed his stare travel from the lavish extravagance of her layered skirts to the jewel-encrusted belt of gold (which, Sif noted unhappily, had only ever been sported by Queen Frigga) adorning her waist. Loki's wandering eyes did not stop there. They followed an invisible trail to her bodice which was laced with elaborate embroidery and the swirls of an ancient Asgardian scripture. Then straight to the scandalous low of her neckline, prompting a scoff from Sif.  _At least she'd had the decency to trim it with gold._

It was no surprise to her when Loki's lingering gaze fell on her face. The way his hard eyes softened a fraction with yearning only fanned the flames of resentment in the heart of his clandestine spectator.  _Pathetic,_ she thought as the same pain eating at her heart became visible in his weary expression. To anyone else, Loki would seem just another bored attendee of a ball held for a ridiculous purpose. But his love rendered him transparent to the eyes of Lady Sif, and she could not help but wonder if love really was one's greatest weakness. 

The ebony-haired warrior almost pitied the would-be brides of Loki who had come to the ball with hopes of romance and nuptial fortune. Poor maidens... they would have to dance with the shell of a man in love.

 

"Good people of Yggdrasil", Thor began in a resounding voice that made the walls tremble with anticipation. "I, Thor Odinson, son of the Allfather and heir to the throne of Asgard do welcome you all most humbly..."

He stopped abruptly as panic rose in his eyes. The crowd looked on uneasily. The woman beside him gave him a gentle nudge as she leaned to whisper in his direction. Thor swallowed deeply and attempted to continue. 

"... to these royal halls, where we pray you shall have your fill of drink and food, and dance to the music of our gratitude until you are spent and sated by enjoyment."

This elicited a few giggles from the crowd below and even howling laughter from Volstagg and Fandral. Renewed with confidence, Thor cleared his throat and carried on with a wide grin. 

"But, as you know, the purpose of this feast was not so that we might steal from you in your drunken stupor," hearty chuckles from the people, "but to present my dear brother with a sea of fair maidens and hope that he shall at last pick one."

From the end of the room, the King and Queen beamed with pride for their son while Thor's wife mouthed something unintelligible in the ear of her husband. Though Sif had not heard it she had seen the movement of her lips, and from their formation read: " _you are doing so well, My Lord."_

Loki had allowed his scowl to loosen in order to send his brother a small smile. Sif guessed it was pride for his brother's humorous antics.

"My wife and I," he took hold of her hand and raised it high, "hope with all our hearts that one of you will at least put a smile on that face. Loki is known for his rather... glum attitude at times." Thor put on a dramatized expression of worry. "Brother, I sure hope you have rehearsed the dance."

Loki let out a laugh this time, shaking his head as if he could not believe his brother's nerve. But he seemed genuinely impressed.

"But above all, Loki - I wish for nothing more than for you to find happiness," Thor placed a tender kiss on his wife's hand, "just as I have found mine."

As the audience clapped and cheered for their good prince, Sif almost laughed aloud at the immediate drop of Loki's devilish grin. From the angle where she stood, she was unable to see the whole of his face but was certain that his short-lived happiness had plunged to a gloomy low. 

"And now, since so many of you are present, we shall take this opportunity to address a predicament of urgent notice. Magnificent as Asgard is, many faults still remain. Societal issues - ones that hinder our efforts to ensure happiness for all. Not just noblemen and people of the palace, but the families in their villages who go to bed hungry at night as well."

Sounds of sympathy came from the guests, oozing with support for their prince. Loki rolled his eyes, still unaware of his keen observer.

"These are men who must work for a day so that they might live to see another one. Women and children who need our protection. Only we can help them, and the council already have. From this day onward, the leavings of our great feasts shall go to the hungry. A portion of our victories from battle will be shared to those in dire need, and commoners shall be offered small positions in the kingdom as further means of earning coin.

"When I am King of this realm, gone shall be the poverty that destroys honest lives. Financial issues shall be resolved to the very best of the council's ability, for we strive for greatness in all aspects of life for _all_ inhabitants of Asgard. No child should have to be raised suffering, sifting through the slums because of our negligence. Together, we shall remake this city, and give its people the fruit of their labor - a better life, a better future!"

Applause erupted through the banquet hall like a mighty crack of thunder, searing through what once was an intent silence. The crowd yelled and sung his praises with the enthusiasm of a nation completely and thoroughly trusting in its ruler. Sif found herself doing the same, moved by the promise he held in his speech and all the more in love with him for the splendid way he had matured. 

Music filled the room and instantly the guests began to break into conversation among themselves, resuming their dancing and drinking. Thor looked on fondly then proceeded to escort his wife down the golden stairs of the grand hall. Sif could only watch wordlessly as the pair sifted through the crowd, greeting and thanking visitors for their presence. It did not take long for them to weave through the ocean of guests and reach the end of the Hall where Odin, Frigga, the Warriors, Loki and Sif were situated.

"Allmother, Allfather. Sirs." The woman inclined her head at the King, Queen and Warriors in greeting before turning to the object of her unease. "Lady Sif," and then uncomfortably to Loki, "My Lord."

The Warriors went to embrace the couple while the younger prince lingered behind and masked his bitterness with indifference. 

"A magnificent speech," King Odin spoke, his voice dropping to a low, "for a most worthy heir."

The smile on Thor's face grew into a grin as he basked in the glory of his father's praise. Hogun patted his shoulder, looking at his friend of many years with surging pride. Breaking out in merry laughter altogether did not come as a surprise for any of them for they all believed the prince had earned his cause for happiness.

All except one.

Sif could not resist a quick glance in the younger prince's direction, eager to see how he fared as Thor went to kiss his mother's beaming cheek. Loki's were tight from the merry mask he'd been forced to wear to this (in Sif's opinion) despicable event. Too intrigued by his reaction to his brother's splendor, her eyes failed to leave his person while she wondered why anyone would find  _him_ so desirable as to prefer him to his dashing brother. She could not deny both their appearances to be most fanciable, she could give him that. But how a woman could resist Thor's righteous appeal to Loki's wiles and devious charm was lost on her.

To this day, the childhood memory of the trickster butchering locks of her hair while she slept still sent her shuddering with anger.

And  _her._ Sif began to fume silently at the thought of the one she so despised.  _She, with her ridiculous fortune, arranged to wed Thor Odinson when a hundred good women could only dream of spending a night with him. How_ ** _dare_** _she abuse her luck?_

"Lady Sif?" A voice struck through her train of thought. Difficultly, she tore her gaze away from Loki to see none but the crown prince standing before her.

"T-Thor?" The way she had said his name could almost be taken for a whimper. Curiosity had distracted her and now all of a sudden her heart was full of Thor - his voice, his hair, his eyes and smile, all pulsating through her veins like fire. She could only stammer, her mind blank with nothing but the joy of hearing him speak to her and the anxiety from being unprepared for his glory. 

"Sif. I would like to thank you for your allegiance and the support you have shown me all these years. We have trained together, fought and protected each other on the battlefield. I have won many victories in my lifetime and could not be happier to have shared them all with you, my great friend and certainly most beautiful comrade in arms."

Words could not describe what she experienced as she drank his gratitude deep, deep until she felt her heart might burst from its refrains in her corseted dress. Normally she would mask the true extent of her joy with nothing but a hint of a smile but on that day, she felt the need to let free her grin and allow her happiness to soar along with her spirits. Thor chuckled.

"It has been the greatest honor one could have to fight by your side, My Lord."

"Only if you are of the fiercest of warriors in Asgard, which you are, Sif. Though I must say, your choice of attire on this fine evening will make any unsuspecting young man fall prey to your wiles."

"You think too unfairly of me, Thor."

"Do I?"

"Yes." And as she spoke, the smile faded from her lips and she saw Thor do the same, obviously troubled by her sudden change of demeanor. There was no hint of a jest in her eyes, just concern and underlying desperation that was so rarely found in a warrior like Lady Sif. 

Her raspy voice lowered to something above a whisper. "I only want what is best for you, My Lord."

His golden brows furrowed in confusion as she glanced around for listeners. "I do not see what you mean-"

Her heart pounded now, not from happiness but with fierce determination. "This regards  _her,_ Thor. Your wife. And Loki. Don't you see? She-"

**"Lady Sif."**

The warrioress almost jumped at the sharpness in her tone when  _she_ appeared at Thor's side at the very moment Sif had planned to expose her. That damned woman, a whore who had been cavorting with Prince Loki despite her marriage to Thor. Her very presence oozed an air of manipulation. She was a snake and the embodiment of sin and everything Asgard stood against. The ice in her glare struck Sif to the core with paralyzing fear, and she felt filthy being so dreadfully close to her person. 

The woman moved closer. Close enough for Sif to catch the unmistakable scent of perfume wafting from her neck area.It suffocated and trapped her in an inferno of smell, tormenting Sif with that blasted fragrance she'd hoped to never be reminded of again.

_Roses._

The bitch had done this purposefully, with every intent to taunt her with memories of the humiliation.

"Ah, my dear wife." Thor pressed a kiss to her forehead, oblivious to the change in Sif's expression as she watched them. It was painful. More agonizing than any wound from the poisoned steel blades her enemies had used to maim her flesh.

"I do so condone your choice of dress, Lady Sif. It is most fitting."

"Thank you, My Lady."

It took all the strength Sif could muster not to appear begrudging. But this oppression of true emotions was starting to affect her deeply.

"Since my marriage to Thor, I have seen the way he has slowly changed into the compassionate and reasonable man he is today. Thor, I am so very proud of you and I just know that you shall make the most wonderful king."

"Yes." Sif interrupted, unable to resist a little tampering of the rose's sensitive thorns. "I could think of no better ruler than Prince Thor, apart from the Allfather, of course." Thor laughed at that. "And Queen Frigga, of course, is an excellent queen. It is not often that a king and his queen share the sort of profound fondness evident between our rulers. Marriage is sacred, My Lady, is it not?"

"Yes of course!" Thor agreed, "when a man and woman are joined before the gods..."

The sound of Thor's voice breezed past their ears as the two women locked eyes. The banquet hall, though so vast in size, seemed to close in on them in their wordless duel. The intensity thickened the air and yet they remained the only ones aware of the underlying animosity. Sif narrowed her eyes slightly and she did the same, taking advantage of Thor's inability to see her seething expression from the angle where she stood.

"... don't you think, my love?"

"Hm? Oh," she tore her gaze from Sif, the scowl disappearing into a saccharine smile at the speed of a bolt of lightning. "Yes, Thor, of course."

The prince grinned contentedly, "Yes. In any case, we really should go and dance. Maybe mingle with some of the guests to make a warmer welcome. You as well, Lady Sif. I'm sure Fandral would like to take you as his partner."

Sif could only wince when Thor winked suggestively and gestured to an awaiting Fandral who, to everyone's surprise, did not yet have a comely maiden in his arms.

"Come, Thor." his wife proceeded to lead him away from the warrior but not before one tentative glance in Loki's direction, "the guests await us."

 

After the first piece of swirling music had come to an end, Fandral looked at Sif pitifully in reaction to her glancing one too many times at the happy couple twirling gracefully just a few feet away from them. Sif caught his sympathetic eye.

"What?"

"Is something bothering you, Sif?"

"I know not of what you speak."

He too followed the object of her gaze with understanding clear in his voice, "He is happy, Sif. You should feel the same for them."

 _How can I,_ she thought,  _when only_ ** _I_** _know the truth?_

"I am happy, Fandral."

The dashing soldier was unconvinced. The music took a deep and beautiful turn causing the dancing pairs to sway into a different set of movements to match this new melody. Sif, who was familiar with intricate compositions due to her complicated battle maneuvers, had no trouble keeping up with the dance every member of the kingdom had heavily rehearsed weeks prior. Fandral lost his footing for a moment at the abrupt change of music but smoothly adjusted a moment later, gliding gracefully into the next sequence with his partner.

He caught her staring once again at Thor and his wife and sighed. "I have to admit, it'll be strange not seeing Odin and Frigga on the throne."

The warrioress followed Fandral's gaze to the king and queen of Asgard who were seated on their chairs of gold. It was a sight the kingdom had collectively come to recognize as the icon of Asgard and would have a hard time adjusting to fresh faces occupying the throne. Sif could only agree, seeing that Odin and Frigga, dressed in shimmering royal garbs, seemed to blend with their equally luminous surroundings. It was difficult to imagine Thor and his wife in their place in these golden halls that had been so long under the rule of a great old man. Compared to them, their son and daughter-in-law would look to be younglings who had come to the wrong realm.

The second her eyes lost sight of the blond prince was the moment her gaze wandered to where his significantly less-merry brother brooded. To her surprise Queen Frigga was there as well, pushing forth a timid young girl with what could only be labeled as a mother's enthusiasm. To her left stood a man who looked to be Odin's age who sported a fine wisp of white hair on the shine of his head, which rendered nearly invisible due to the brightness of the room. He too was happy, eyes agleam with excitement as he patted the shoulder of a stiff Loki.

Before she could observe more of the situation, Sif was whisked away with the constantly rotating position of the dancers and could only watch in dismay as both Thor and Loki disappeared into the sea of swirling reds and golds.

She needed only to wait a moment before a familiar green and gold figure emerged from the crowd once again. Sif was delighted with where they danced for it presented her with a clear view on the situation involving Prince Loki and this mysterious new girl. She saw Frigga laugh, prompting the maiden to turn her head so that her features were visible to the spying Sif.

_And by the gods was she beautiful._

Her skin, like alabaster, stretched tight upon her prominent cheeks without a single blemish in sight. The bridge of her nose and curve of her lip seemed to have been pulled from the goddess Freyja herself, untouchable beauty replicated in the face of this lovely maiden. One could have mistaken her eyes for sapphires glinting in the dark, their piercing blue so rich and desirable, any gaze lasting short of an eternity would not be enough to sate a man's needs. The soft, rosy tint of her mouth resembled a plump fruit as her lips parted in awe of Loki, appearing somewhat mesmerized. Dark tresses framed her face in a modest arrangement to compliment the lush green of her sumptuous gown. 

Thus ended the second song, treating each dancer to one silent moment of preparation before moving into the third sequence just in time with the renewed melody. Loki and the maiden in green were lost once more as another pair rose into the line of Sif's vision.

Thor... and his distressed-looking lady, who looked as though she might lose her step from the shock of something in particular she had seen.

Things had gotten dreadfully interesting.


	8. She Is Not Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the events that unfold at the ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN A WHILE. I'M STUDYING FOR DIVE THEORY BUT I PROMISE I'LL FINISH THIS. PLS DON'T LEAVE. 
> 
> *cries*
> 
> Anyway, scratch whatever I said about the whole story being around 12 chapters - things have changed and there will probably be a little more.
> 
> After having asked for many opinions regarding the ending, after much deliberation, I have decided which path this tale shall take. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for more!

The music filling the hall was unlike any I had ever heard. Each note rang richly, gracing my ears with all the passion and cheer of a delightful young child as we swayed and yielded to its playful harmony. I had really surprised myself with how well I was executing each sequence seeing as I'd been so nervous before Thor and I had even entered the banquet hall. I found small pleasure in the thrill of possibly making a mistake or tripping on the hem of my dress, but performed splendidly under the supportive eye of my husband nonetheless. As soon as I'd forced my shoulders to relax, dancing became rather enjoyable for me, serving as an escape from engaging in pointless conversation with the many people I did not know in the ballroom.

"You are doing splendidly."

"I suppose I am, Thor."

"Nay, you are truly magnificent. You move with the elegance of a thousand summer birds; rainbows scattered beneath each sweep of your moonlit dress as we share this dance."

"Waxing poetic, are we?"

"No amount of poetry could do your beauty justice." He was so sweet. He looked offended as I giggled. "I speak the truth!"

"Of course you do, Thor", I murmured softly, leaning into him as our feet and arms moved steadily with the flow of a lively tune.

My eyes could have fallen shut were it not for the sight before me that caused them to snap open in disbelief. There, mirroring our movements in the center of the hall, was the God of mischief - dancing away with a ravishing young maiden in his arms.

He was  _smiling._

And her very aura was alluring beneath the amber glow of the ballroom lights as she grinned in return, revealing a gleaming row of elegant ivories.

 _What is **this?**_ _How dare he-_

Then I remembered; he did not owe me anything. I was married to his brother, and this ball was held for the sole purpose of finding Loki a suitable wife. He could not come into my arms and hold me as his lover without first scanning his surroundings for unfortunate onlookers. He could not kiss my lips without tasting sin, nor could I proclaim my undying love of him for fear of death as punishment for this simple crime.

So naturally, the stirring restlessness in my stomach could not be justified?

"Who is she?" The question tumbled from my mouth before it had passed my mind. There were just too many answers I sought and the identity of this girl was just one of many that could serve to calm my pounding heart. The dull thud of a headache rushed through my veins as the adrenaline from the thrill of dancing slowly subsided into numbness. 

Thor raised a brow in confusion for a short second before his eyes shot open, his mouth forming a small 'o' of realization upon noticing the object of my interest. He grinned widely.

"That is the good Lady Sigyn," he gestured in the direction of the waltzing pair with a small nod of his head, "the intended of my brother."

The heart-wrenching image of Loki in the arms of another woman had already been hard to comprehend, but  _this?_ The thud of my heart seemed to come to a gradual slow as the weight of Thor's words heaved itself upon my aching chest. My head swam with tiring thoughts of duty and the same recall of his burning touch, the carnal passions he had elicited from within me and how I still ached for the music of his voice. The lust in his eyes, ablaze like sunlight littered on the surface of an ocean in the calming aftermath of a storm.

Then, from below the sea he emerged - robust and glorious as the light dripped from his raven hair. His lips curled fondly and at that moment I let myself believe that his smile was meant for me. 

Before I could return it, a dark figure brushed past me to stand by his side. It was Lady Sigyn, the pristine gleam of her cheek apparent as she melted into Loki's embrace with a smug simper.

_Intended?_

A million queries raced through my head in the form of doubtful voices speaking their dread for what this meant. I was so deep in confusion, I could have likened myself to a young child attempting to learn the wisdom of ages.

"Intended?!" I said aloud, too in shock to mind what impression my tone of voice gave Thor. "Was this whole event not held for the purpose of -"

"Finding Loki a wife? No, not really..."

The hesitance in Thor's expression did nothing but agitate me further and I could not deny the slow confirmation of my suspicions. 

"What do you mean? What was the point of organizing this ball if he is already betrothed?"

_Did Loki know? Did he agree to the arrangement? Had he been a willing participant in this pointless show?_

The questions came like flitting pellets, stinging my skin with each impact. I prayed they would not fall too close to my heart. Throbbing pain engulfed my mind and blocked every orifice with a hammering sense of disbelief and dread. 

My husband sighed and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I am not permitted to speak of this, but... months before this day, Mother had already arranged for my brother to wed Lady Sigyn. She knew he would not appreciate the idea of a planned marriage so she bade me organize this event, hoping to make it appear otherwise."

If it were possible for my heart to sink any further, this was the time. Suddenly the layers of my skirts seemed to grow heavier with each step as numbing exhaustion plagued my trembling legs. I couldn't lie to myself any longer; I was upset. Upset and disappointed, though I knew I had no right to be. Devastated that the love of my life, the man who held my heart in his tender grasp, had been promised to another. Unnerved and apprehensive at the ghastly thought of those skilled hands roaming Sigyn's body, caressing her, sharing the intimacy he had had with me. I could never complain for I was most at fault. I, being the one who had spoken vows and broken promises, should have instead been pleased with this orderly arrangement that would bury our crimes and save our lives from punishment. No longer would any servant or handmaiden suspect anything amiss, for Loki was for Sigyn, and the sacred act of marriage was something that should be upheld. _The Queen of Asgard and the Jotun Prince? How ridiculous!_ They would laugh among themselves, brushing each rumor off as some languid jest.

But one question plagued my mind to no end - _had Loki known about these plans prior to the ball?_

And if he was indeed aware, he had smiled at her, laughed and danced with her... did this mean he did not love me as ardently as he claimed to?

"None bear this knowledge except for Lady Sigyn, her father, Mother and I. Loki is none the wiser." Thor's steady voice cut through the mist of depressing thoughts swirling in my mind. The searing sound cleared the smoke of my troubles and comforted me. Loki still did not know of the arranged betrothal, allowing me the small joy of clinging on to the shred of hope that he still cared.

 _Fine,_ I thought,  _wed her if you will. Just do me this small justice, and **never forget.**_

Harmonious strings flood the room with song at the last resounding note, signaling that it was time to change partners. I was reluctant to pry myself from Thor's safe arms in worry of winding up in the embrace of a stranger. The vastness of the banquet hall seemed all the more unfamiliar at the thought of sharing my first dance with someone I'd never met before. Within these golden walls, the air grew shrill, the light dimmed and its people were naught but shadows waltzing in an empty room as they were told to - I pulled away from the prince's unwilling grasp.

"It is time to take a different partner." he stated, an oddly sad tone in his voice. But he smiled. "You will do well."

And so I let go. The music carried me along its gliding currents and I complied, allowing myself to fall into the arms of the very first man who managed to sweep me into immediate dance. My eyes fluttered close as I felt myself drift further and further away from my husband and out into the wild, the melody lulling me into a trance as my limbs moved automatically to its uplifting rhythm. 

A soft brush of cool air caused me to open my eyes. A dark green shade filtered through the cracks of my lashes. 

As I pondered the familiarity of this specific color, the faint smell of leather took charge of my senses and I seemed to recall something that nagged at the back of my brain. Before I could fish the forgotten thought from the depths of my mind, another scent filled my nostrils as we drifted elegantly about the room - the mint of fresh snow, an enthralling though unnameable spice, the clear sweetness of dew and elderflowers settling in the morn. The familiar heat of fire crackling in the hearth, kindling desire in the smoldering depths of my soul. I knew this scent, this taste, this emotion, had felt it overwhelm me long ago when I confided in the silent moon not to tell a soul beneath its knowing watch.

Thus, with a gasp, I looked up.

Portals to a deep, inky greenwood, his piercing eyes met mine. I suffocated with emotion, unable to even think or speak with my mind and body so lost in those twisted emerald labyrinths. They were watery and wide, fierce and yet so melancholy. 

My mouth was agape with the desire and need to tell him of how I longed for his embrace, his love and passionate words. Of his child, of Sif's jealousy, of everything that had happened in the months of our separation. But he only stared, as if begging me not to break this silent barrier between us in fear of bursting with the raw longing coursing through our veins. An unspoken plea to just allow him the small pleasure of holding me in his arms as we danced to the haunting, gradually discordant music. 

 

 

 

"I fear, Sif, that it is time to change partners." Fandral's sharp tenor pulled Sif from her thoughts like a fish from murky waters - spluttering and unready for this sudden slap of reality. The bustling hall quietened a slither with a pause of the music, indicating that it was time to transition to the next partner. Sif glanced around her, slightly glad to depart from the prying soldier but felt trepidation in letting another man's hands on her waist and shoulder. 

When she fell into the hold of the first man who swept her away, even then, her stare refused to leave Loki. He had also ceased his movements, placing a kiss on the new maiden's hand before bowing politely and moving on to the next eager girl. 

It was  _her._ His mistress.

The surprise in Sif's throat caused her to choke at the revelation that Loki had taken Thor's wife as his next partner in dance. Rage boiled beneath her skin as Sif's jaw clenched in anger;  _were they not ashamed of what they had done?_

For a fleeting moment, Sif contemplated abandoning her partner amid the sea of twirling limbs and marching over to where Loki and the future queen danced, just to pry his trickster hands from her waist in attempt to restore the dignity of the God of Thunder. She continued to eye the pair intently without any care to see the face of the man who rested his digits on her slender hip and the skin of her bare shoulder. She would never have let any man touch her like this were she not so focused on the interactions occurring between the pair across the room. Sif was numb to these graceful movements, her feet working almost mechanically as she twirled and fell against her partner again and again.

Then a chuckle rumbled through her chest.

She paused, wondering if the laughter belonged to she herself. But it was much too deep, too masculine to be hers.

It was then that she realized it belonged to her partner, who's chest was pressed to hers in the particular sequence of dance they were now performing. And on this chest, Sif recognized in horror, was red silk, stretched upon broad muscle. Her dazed focus trailed from his impressive pectorals to his collarbone, until the first traces of a golden stubble came into view on the strong width of his chin. It ran along his firm jaw and disappeared above his fond lips, which brought crinkles to the corner of his cobalt orbs in a cordial fashion. 

His perfection was crippling in Sif's eyes, the epiphany of a God. And to be this close to him...

Suddenly the fingers on her shoulder burned through her skin like a flame. The hand on her waist made her shake with anticipation as its heat radiated through her core. She found that she could not suppress a smile at the intimacy of the situation and at once, Loki and his whore drifted from her mind, forgotten.  

"You are the second to appear so interested in my brother's conduct this night, Sif."

The warrioress almost cursed at the reminder. "I was merely curious as to whom Prince Loki was dancing with prior to the transition."

"Ah," Thor spoke and licked his lip, "she is Lady Sigyn, daughter of an influential Asgardian chancellor."

"She is very beautiful."

"Aye, she and Loki make a fine match."

Sif imagined Sigyn would be the one to marry Loki and aid in the cover-up of his liaison with the future Queen of Asgard, judging by the utterly smitten gleam plastered across her face when she danced with him. Sif knew this expression well - better than she would have preferred. But if Loki were to announce the engagement in these particular times, there would be no chance of the scandal escaping closed doors. Her position as Queen would be secure and Loki would be safely married with no chance of them ever having to suffer the consequences of their affair. At the sheer injustice of it, Sif bawled her fists in loathing.

"Ah yes," Thor addressed with interest, "what was it you wished to tell me about my wife?"

Once again she opened her mouth, wanting with all her heart to let her knowledge spill from within in a fountain of truth, exposing his woman and brother to the world so it would give them the punishment they deserved. Thor would be free of their lies at last, and Asgard would no longer be plagued with their dishonesty. 

But there was reason in Sif. She knew that saying the words would only cause Thor to morph his expression into one of incredulity, then dismiss her suspicion with a laugh.

_Because he loves her._

He would not believe her ridiculous accusations that seemingly came from nowhere. And Sif had to admit, it was true. All that had lead to this conclusion was memory of Prince Loki leaving her chambers, the insightful encounter in the gardens and the suspicious reaction she'd had to Loki's interactions with Lady Sigyn. Suddenly the whole ordeal seemed ridiculous to Sif; what if it all turned out to be paranoia caused from her intense love of Thor? Had she really stooped so low as to question this woman's fidelity through the hate bred from her petty jealousy? By Odin, she was a warrior! Not some intolerable, juvenile princess!

Bitter disgust tainted her tongue. The Warriors had once jokingly remarked about whether Thor's lady would survive past the wedding ceremony with Sif present, if he were ever to marry. Each time she had shaken her head with a chuckle, brushing off their taunts and suggestive smirks. Now, ever since Thor had wed, these jokes had ceased. She wondered why.

Refusing to meet Thor's eyes, she told a lie.

"I simply wished to ask if she has recovered, is all."

Her heart sank, hitting the floor with a clunk as a smile of gratitude spread across his lips. "She is very well, thank you, Sif." 

Sif returned the smile meagerly then assessed the room, subconsciously looking for Loki and his lover one last time. They were out of sight, lost among the crowd, and Sif could not be happier.

For now, all she wanted was to spend the night in Thor's arms. Gathering evidence would have to wait.

 

 

 

The new piece opened with a simple tune before merriment burst forth in the form of a symphony. The music was steady, full and romantic, boasting melodic charm as the couples around us broke into the next sequence with little effort, save for one or two renowned warriors who were more accustomed to situations involving brawn over finesse. The tune filled the night air with calm, as if it were a soothing sheath made to envelope my senses and rid me of my darkest thoughts.

I remembered Frigga's worry. The heart-wrenching concern in her tone when she had expressed her perturbation for her son's wellbeing. I hadn't wanted to believe it at the time and yet seeing Loki now, so close, turned my doubt to harrowing guilt.

Faint redness surrounded the shine of his emerald orbs. His ashen complexion appeared almost sickly, the dryness of his lips flaked with neglect. He looked just as he did in the night, when dreams of his love plagued my slumber until I would wake, gasping for his embrace, his eyes, his affection.

Loki held my stare. Fire blurred my vision at the sudden revelation that despite all that had transpired, I was _here -_ in his arms, the crib of his love, and not anywhere else. The sudden swell of emotion brimmed at his eyes as he held me, dug his nails harshly into the flesh of my shoulder to keep from falling over the verge and losing control. The sting of pain struck ferocious but I endured, for every touch, every sensation burned into my memory and I was grateful. His tears glinted in the passing light while his mouth; wet and agape in unspeakable agony, grew numb with the hopelessness that ripped the voice from his constricted throat.

He was so... vulnerable. So tired. Tormented by the insatiable demands thrown his way, day after another, for eternity. 

The changing position of the dance caused him to remove his grip from my shoulder. I hissed, features contorting in sharp pain from where he had clung to me. He saw this and growled at the blood he'd drawn from my delicate skin. I was brought into an elegant twirl in which I tried to mask the ache with a stiff face. Immediately after that, cool fingers brushed over the crimson marks, sealing the small wounds that had caused my discomfort.

I melted into his healing touch. I could not recall him ever using magic to soothe me, and yet... the sense rang familiar at the back of my mind. Was it true what Sif had said, about seeing Loki leave my room while I slept?

At the strangest moment, he spoke. 

"I hurt you."

Nothing could have prepared me for the sound of his voice. It was artful, like molten silver dripping from his tongue. For so long I had yearned to hear him speak again. Since that night, I dreamt of the silk of his tone enrapturing me into submission, easing the trouble from my aching body. It was as if he opened his mouth and out came a song; the anthem of hope and anguish that relieved my craving to taste the man behind the monster. 

He had spoken the regretful words of an apology yet nothing in his eyes echoed an ounce of remorse. Only pain. Endless pain.

"It is nothing, My Lord."

Still wincing, a low growl escaped his throat as he stared at the crimson caking small crescents in my shoulder. "You're bleeding."

I shook my head and the music seemed to sway with it, leaping and bounding into a whole new form of melody that was so different from what it had been before. Our movements grew more vigorous by the second, each touch of our palms and every mingled breath searing my flesh with passionate intensity. My chest heaved. Knees trembled. Arms grew in weight and I struggled to maintain the graceful lifts.

Then a high, sustaining note stole through the air and lingered; cue for the male to sweep his partner off her feet.

His hands were on my waist in an instant to bring me off from the floor, and I swear I could no longer feel the ground beneath me. His fingers pressed through the satin of my dress beneath my golden belt, gently kneading the flesh of my hip in what was not supposed to be a sensual gesture - but still the heat shot through me, as the icy contrast of his scalding palms possessed me like a vehement current. Muscles frigid, I shuddered from his touch and the breath I held in the brief time my body was suspended in the air. I could just see a sliver of green and the ebony ends of Sigyn's flowing locks as she entranced and captivated the lord she was carried by. Then I was lowered to the marble floor once again, my eyes losing sight of the beautiful goddess.

Loki's gaze burned into my forehead; I could feel the jagged emeralds of his stare slicing at the skin, seeking refuge in my mind. So I reverted my gaze to each emerging figure that I mistook for his betrothed. Anything seemed to bring a better outcome than meeting Loki's eyes.

I cast my eyes to the floor and watched the hem of my gown bring long shadows about the meandering black of the marble floor. 

"I am quite alright, Prince Loki."

I heard him suck in a harsh breath, the sound piercing my ears abruptly. I cursed inwardly. His name upon my tongue had surely caused some emotions to stir within him; I could feel them, swimming in his core as I was pressed against his torso. I craved this touch, this delicious contact which should have been modest but made me feel like the subject of a great scandal.

Perhaps I should have paid more attention to my footwork. One of the gleaming gems fastened on the toe of my shoe caught the hem of my dress. Maybe it had been frayed from all the dancing but none of that mattered - there was no use in pondering this issue when I was taking a fall.

And it was quick. My eyes snapped shut as I fumbled for support. I could no longer see the vibrant colors of the ballroom or the rich greens of sweeping dresses. I could only feel the wind breeze across my face. Cold air beneath my fingertips as I stumbled forwards. Then the familiar grips of leather and the dreaded touch of cold skin, all adding to the impact of my unexpected collapse, heart beating against the cage of bone in my clenched chest.

_Oh god, I'm going to die._

Maybe death would have been the perfect solution to all this. But when were the gods ever on my side?

Suddenly, a forceful grip pulled me from my reverie. His iron hold was as rough and unrelenting as I remembered it; the muscles in my arm began to ache from the crushing pressure of his grasp. The pad of his thumb burned painfully into the bone of my forearm while he whispered harshly against my ear something akin to the low growl of the wind, broken and disoriented.

**"Enough of this! No more games, no more lies, my love, _please_! No more..."**

"Loki, let go of me!" I cried out, thrashing against him, pounding my fists weakly against his chest - he was so warm, and somehow, I found some twisted pleasure in the closeness of our bodies. This was rare - and I cherished it with every sharp breath as the struggle died down and tears trailed down by cheeks. 

We were turning heads faster than the time sped towards the chime of the late hour. Soon, murmurs flooded the hall and into my ears. We were surrounded by watchers, a crowd who belittled and judged without knowledge, who conjured stories between themselves with their wild imaginations. 

I turned my gaze away from him, searching amongst lords and ladies for some look of reassurance. Loki grasped my chin and wrestled my focus back to his eyes.  _His eyes,_ those watery, crazed depths, fueled with the desperation of a madman. For a second, I noticed the redness in his face - the product of alcohol. I was never aware that he'd been one to drink till intoxicated, now being the worst of times for me to realize this. His expression was tortured still, as was I when he continued to chant,  **"damn you! Damn you, I need you, I _need_ you-"**

The strength in me was building; the pent-up shame burst forth in a cloud of guilt as I forced his body from mine and fled, not wanting to see him stumbling backwards into the nearest group of horrified guests. 

My vision blurred but my feet moved, like a mechanism taught to remember itself while I ran in any direction, away from Loki. My carelessness caused me to collide yet again with the figure of a young woman, who screamed in shock and dropped her glass. Its contents emptied onto my gown, faster than I could realize it.

I looked down. 

A red liquid started to seep through my crimson dress, from the line of my waist to the bottom of my skirts. Scarlet trails running through the creases of my gown, darkening it to the maroon color of wine. 

 _Then pain. The dagger buried in my abdomen, my blood on my dress, the loss of my child._ I was reliving it all again from nothing but a stain on my ballgown. My eyes grew wide, my knees felt as if they would give beneath me until my weight fell to the icy floor. Admidst it all, I craved it. The touch of ice, the soothing release of my cheek against marble. The dull thud of hurried footsteps and muffled gasps of surprise following me into unconsciousness. 

"My Lady,"  _a voice,_ "are you alright?"

 

 

 

_"Get away from me, you **bitch**!"_

The dancers ceased their twirling and heads turned. Gazes were averted with interest to the future queen of Asgard, who had run into Lady Asta and was now covered in a generous splatter of fine wine. Lady Sif had come to her aid, but to the horror of the crowd around her, she had screamed profanities at the warrioress and retreated hastily to her chambers, visibly shaken by the events that'd unfolded in a blur. As the clatter of her footsteps left the hall, the room erupted with confused murmurs, whispers that drowned out the short-lived silence in the wake of her sudden leave.

Sif, who stood stiffly by the exiting doors, tried not to break out in mirthless laughter. But of course, none saw the corner of her lips twitch, held back by nothing but fierce determination to keep her joy to herself.

Eyes then fell gradually onto Prince Loki. He seemed disoriented and lost, his stare full of tears as if he were in the aftermath of a deranged battle that had stirred from within him. The ice in his glare caught many of the guests by surprise, but did not stop them from recounting what suggestive things he had uttered so desperately to his brother's wife. One by one, they turned to each other and whispered petty speculations right before his watchful eyes. They were shameless. As was he in his passion for  _her._

 _These people..._ Loki looked to his father, who's face was stern with that same disapproval, then to his mother and Thor, who seemed worried and strangely, afraid. This unnerved him, until he looked once again upon a crowd of imbeciles who road on the downfall of others in order to soar. Creatures who lapped at every drop of one's dismay with their ignorant tongues, then proceeded to spread it to others with the same impetuousness. These...  _monsters,_ who spoke behind the back of the woman he would withstand the snapping jaws of the great hound of Hellgate to hold in his embrace. 

The prince left without another word, ignoring the pleas of his mother who had followed him from the banquet hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE leave a review or kudos so I know that you like it so far!
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter <3


	9. Frigga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While you rest in your chambers after the ballroom incident, Loki and his mother have a long-overdue discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I know I've been slacking off with this story but please understand, it takes a long time for me to come up with ideas and then put them into words. I'm carving the story out as I go and have a vague idea of how it will end. If it seems like I haven't updated in forever, don't abandon this story because it WILL BE FINISHED.
> 
> Enjoy this super short chapter :)

"Loki Odinson, you will look at me when I am speaking to you."

"I am not Odin's son _._ "

"But you are  _mine,_ Loki. And though you are not born of the Allfather, you surely take after him in terms of temper."

"Mother, I would like to be left alone."

"And you shall be, once you explain the cause for your behavior tonight."

"Mother,  _please,_ I need to be alone..." the prince swallowed, his jaw clenching back the tears that nipped at his eyes, "it's what I do best."

"No. I shan't leave till you've told me about what happened and, more importantly, why."

Loki groaned inwardly as he felt the space on the bed next to him compress under the weight of his stern-faced mother, who was now looking at him and eagerly awaiting an explanation. He turned his head away from her patient gaze. As much as he despised it, the truth was, his mother had always been the only one to see through his lies and break through his thick facade. Frigga was the one who raised him, taught him magic he'd never thought possible, gifted him books from Asgard's great archives to widen his knowledge. Loved him like her own son. 

She had given him all this skill, and what for what? He smirked mirthlessly.  _For me to become Loki Liesmith, Asgard's favorite frost giant trickster._

"Take your time, my son," came the Queen's soothing speech. "Though I must admit that your hesitance to even look me in the eye worries me immensely."

A shaky sigh left his lips while his eyes closed in mild irritation at his mother's insistence. He remembered times like these. In the past, he had placed blame on his brother for his own mischief and foolishly underestimated Frigga's understanding of his personality, lying through his teeth when confronted. He could almost chuckle at how far he'd come from the naive little boy he was once was. In the days of his youth, Loki desired nothing but for the faces of his victims to contort in anger as the full extent of his ludicrous pranks dawned upon them. The memory of Sif's furious blade slicing at his heels as she chased him through the halls for cutting her hair still brought a small smile to his face each time he remembered it.

And now?

His eyes opened. They were harsh, almost blaring with melancholy. Now, he wanted other things. Like his father's approval, the love of the public, the boisterous cheer of a crowd upon his arrival. To step out from the darkness of Thor's shadow and into his own light, where he would bask in the adoration of those around him, and perhaps, rule over them someday. Loki wanted his brother's power to make others applaud the sound of his name and every deed he committed, whether it be just or not. He wanted that life and the respect that came with it. Loki wanted to take Thor's wife from his clutches and proclaim her as his own, where their wedding would be the most lavish ceremony in all of Yggdrasil. He would kiss her and hold her for all to see and make their love known without having to deal with these ridiculous consequences obstructing their passion.

Loki _wanted._

He desired many things, and wished he could recede to childhood where the world was still a blooming garden of opportunities. In his dreams, he was a brave and most worthy son who fought to conquer kingdoms and held the praise of his father, and the approval of a doting mother. No oaf of a brother, no hiding behind him as Thor received an entire episode of applause from a thousand Asgardians.

He exhaled deeply and calmer, facing away from a pressing Frigga. He would just tell her another lie; after all, she'd be disappointed in him anyway upon hearing the truth.

"I was not wary of how much I drank, and I am truly sorry for causing any distress in the ballroom tonight. I should have been more careful."

"You of all people should know that I can smell a lie when I am told one."

The look his mother gave him brought back a torrent of embarrassing memories from when he'd stolen from the kitchen and framed Thor by placing bread crusts beneath his bed. The Queen had called him out immediately for his fibbing with a stern motherly tone.

Loki would never admit that he  _wanted_ to tell her everything. He needed to confide his troubles in someone he trusted, someone who would listen and understand without contributing with unnecessary input. The emotions seemed to rise and gather in his chest, holding it under a weight that threatened to burst from his throat. He wanted to address his jealousy of his brother, and his own love for Thor's unwilling wife. He sought the comfort of knowing that he was not alone in his time of dire need.

The truth boiled upon his tongue like a scalding broth waiting to spill from aching lips.

"I tell no lie, mother."

"You've told one now."

"I... do not wish to speak of it-"

"So you admit that you are lying to me." Frigga narrowed her eyes with a knowing smile, "you do not still take me for a fool, do you, my son?"

No answer came. His mouth was dry as cotton, words pushing against his lips till they grew numb from staying shut. The same words, over and over again in his mind.

_I love her._

_By the Gods, I love her._

He sneaked a glance at his mother, and felt dread line his stomach at the absence of a smile on her face. She had always look frightening when she was completely and utterly serious, like that time after he'd cut Sif's hair in her sleep and laughed about it. Frigga's expression was solemn and unamused, as if she had just been exposed to a life-threatening revelation. Loki was as afraid of her as ever - nothing had changed. And for that, Loki was almost grateful.

"Loki..." his mother said calmly, almost like she was composing herself as well as her son, "is this - about your brother?"

Loki didn't believe this was truly what his mother thought him to be distressed about. She didn't look to believe it herself.

"Yes." He gave a straight answer. "And no."

Frigga placed a gentle finger beneath his chin and tilted him to face her. Her eyes were watery and clear, blue as Thor's yet so much deeper. Loki would never dream of not seeing them each day, and having her there to help and hold him, like she always did. With a steady voice, she asked him:

"Is this about  _her?_ "

A dreadful silence followed the lingering weight of her words. She was right in a sense; he was indeed thinking about her. Every step, every glance, every breath he took, the image of her beneath him, writhing in the darkness, suppressing strangled cries as he took all that was hers still stayed on his mind. Over the months that had passed, he could honestly say that he'd been up to no good at all. In the course of less than a year, the prince had engaged in an affair with his brother's wife, lied to his family and took part in countless other dark deeds... Loki hoped his mother would not be so diligent as to take a hint on all that he had done. He feared that if he did not tell the truth now, the truth would somehow worm itself from inside him when he least expected it.

"Yes... and no."

Frigga inclined her head slightly as her eyes looked on at him in sadness. He did not know how to respond to that - for the first time in years, the look on her face held true, unadulterated disappointment. He would always accuse her of preferring Thor but in the end she had always loved  _him_ unconditionally, even after the many wrongs he had done her. It was this particular melancholy in her eyes that shook him to the core. 

"Oh, Loki..." She sighed as her deep blue orbs glazed over with worry. "How can you- how...?"

He bit his lip and shied from her touch. "Mother..."

"No... you couldn't have...! Loki, she is your  _brother's wife!_ "

" **I know that.** "

"You clearly do not, or you would not have-" her lip quivered in a moment of denial. She placed a hand over her chest, hoping to calm her beating heart from the fact that her worst speculation had come true. "Have you... have you  _done_ anything with her?!"

Silence.

Frigga looked as if she were to burst with despair. Her voice dropped to a low, desperate whisper. "When...? When did this happen?"

Shame overtook Loki as he lowered his gaze to the floor. The lump in his throat was the only thing there to keep him from crying out the answer. He loathed to see his mother seem uncertain; skeptical even, of the true nature of her son.

"On the night of the wedding, I..."

"No... _oh, no!_ "

He exhaled. "Mother, please-"

"How could you do this?! How could you take what is not yours?" Frigga rose from the bed and began pacing distressingly. Loki opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by her icy glare. "Do not tell me that you are in love with her, Loki. I know you, I know that you did this to anger Thor. To hurt your father, all of us!"

"No, mother", glossed emerald orbs met deep despairing blue as Loki looked up to meet her gaze. "I am in love with her. I have been ever since I saw her at the wedding, and even more so after that night in the gardens. My actions may have stemmed from the mild jealousy I hold towards my brother, but I do not regret pursuing her love."

"You... you speak the truth!"

"I do, mother. I love her. With every ounce of my being, every fiber of my existence and though I wish it were not so, I have never loved anything more!"

"My son, do you not understand?" The Queen stalked over towards him and cupped his weary face in her quaking hands. "She has married and pledged herself to him and you have robbed him of his dignity without even a shred of his knowledge!"

"She did not _want_ to marry him. She never wanted a part in any of this!"

"And you think she wants to marry you, if I am not mistaken?"

His mother had once again caught him off guard. In the many hours he'd spent pining for her touch, her love, there'd been instances where the prospect of him taking her as his own wife came to mind. Loki could even recall envisioning her once in a lavish green gown standing beside him at the altar during one of his many dreams of splendor. His heart swelled at these precious thoughts - these little wishes he kept locked away for when he was alone in the safety of his chambers.

"It would complete me, mother."

"Are you even certain she feels the way you do? Does she make  _you_ happy? Does your heart soar at the thought of her, or does it weep?"

"Mother..."

"Does she smile when she sees you and even when she does not? Do her eyes come to life when they find yours? What do you know of love, Loki?" She held his gaze, despite the look on his face that expressed his will to crumble with emotion. "You are young, my dear son. You are already betrothed to Lady Sigyn who is beautiful as she is charming - both of which are attractive qualities. Love should build and raise you, not break or destroy your resolve."

"But I-" Loki began to say, unable to find the strength to argue on with a women who was a thousand times wiser than he, even if he would never admit it aloud.

"Say no more, Loki. It hurts my heart to think of what you've done!"

"Why?" A sneer spread across his tired features. "Does this force you to realize the failure I've become? Do you finally see me for what I truly am?"

"Yes." Frigga answered firmly with an incredulous confidence. "I see you as I have always seen you - as my son."

"A disappointment."

"A success."

"A liar."

"A man misunderstood."

"A  _monster._ "

"An angel.  _My_ angel, dear Loki. You are my son, and I love you, just as your father and your brother do in their own way, whether they express it by words or more discreetly by actions. Pride keeps them from speaking these words; they are alike, but you are smart. Intelligent, cunning, even. Different. But that has not hindered us, your family, from loving you as our own."

" **You lie.** Everyone has always favored Thor. Never the frost giant, never the Thunderer's shadow, because he only does tricks. Tricks and lies, deceit and mischief in the dark, alone as he laughs at the world who can just look upon a man and deem him a monster. My fath-  _the old fool_ still sitting on that throne did not rush out to comfort me as you did. Your beloved golden boy is still in there, standing stoic and being too big of an oaf to go and comfort his wife, who is upset and all alone and in need of someone to hold her-" He inhaled harshly, not knowing that he'd been speaking under a single breath all this time.  _It's all out now,_ he realized with a sigh. He was at the mercy of these unstoppable thoughts and feelings that, for the first time, spewed from his lips in the presence of one other than himself. 

Regaining his composure was easy. Finding the courage to speak again proved difficult for a man who's teeth were stained with the remnants of the many lies he told to every face, every day. "It should be  _me._ "

Frigga looked on at him forlornly as he placed a hand on his chest in a notion of heartfelt sincerity. It was real, that his mother could tell. And it shattered her heart.

"It should be me", he whispered, "I should be the one to hold her, love her, shield her from harm. Why did she have to be  _his?_ Tell me, mother. Tell me why everything I hold dear is out of my reach."

"Loki..." 

The prince scoffed. Tone dripping with venom, he lashed out in a fit of hatred at his own misery. "You can't, can you? Of course you can't. No one understands how I feel, just as nobody has ever cared to make me think otherwise."

"My son, please-"

"There are many things I have done across these difficult months, mother. Terrible things, and not just..." he glanced at the blood embedded beneath his nails from that earlier touch, " _this._ Deeds that would surely have you hate me for all eternity."

"I could  **never** hate you." The queen was solemn and severe, eyes hard and lips tight as she embraced her son and held on to him, not wanting for Loki to slip away and recoil into his own pit of self-loathing. She had been close to losing him in the past - she would not let that happen again. She felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest against her own; just like first time she had held the abandoned babe to her bosom with the warmest affection a woman could give to her child. Hesitant arms coiled slowly around her as she balanced on her toes to take in all of his tall frame. 

Just as she'd began to sink into the comfort of his arms, a lengthy exhale breezed past Frigga's right ear, prompting the abrupt fall of his arms from her back. It was like the warmth had vanished in an instant, the moment absent and never to be retrieved once more. 

"We shall see."

He moved to the other side of the bed and picked up a book from the nightstand, plopping down onto the mattress as nonchalantly as a man who had not just spilled his heart and soul to the one he trusted most in the world. 

Loki kept his eyes strained on the empty words on each yellowing page, wishing he were deaf to the sobs of his mother as she escaped the saddening air of his chambers.

 

 

 

The halls of Asgard were silent, save for the dull hum of white noise filling the alabaster walls and the breath of wind seeping through windows ajar. Pale moonlight fell onto marble tiles in scattered beams, illuminating selected crevices and corners of the palace's design. Not even the gentle song of a bird in the night could be heard at this time of rest, where even the strongest of warriors and mightiest of kings were enclosed in the grasp of slumber.

Healers, especially, needed their nourishment to continue saving the lives of those in the kingdom with their well-learnt skills.

After the ordeal with her mother's sickness and meeting the dark sorcerer in secret, the last few weeks had proved difficult for Bergdis to relax. She could no longer turn a corner without peering behind her, shoulders stiff, expecting the dreaded cobalt of the wizard's blazing eyes staring back at her from the darkness. Nervousness burned through her entire body and now, her hands shook wherever she went; never warm, not as nimble as they used to be. 

The money from the Lady's coffers she had taken to pay for his remedies had been spent, save for a single coin she'd salvaged from the amass of gold and jewelry, now gone from her hands. The icy face of the coin against her breast was hidden by her modest healer's garments and served as a reminder of the gratitude she held for the queen-to-be. Bergdis thought her selfish and manipulative at first, but could not help admiring the intelligence and incredible resolve of the woman who had had a child with the heir's own brother, and lost it shortly to a Dark Elf's blade.

Bergdis slept lightly, plagued by endless nightmares of piercing blue eyes watching her intently. 

A sudden gasp left her throat at the cold sting of steel against her frail, white neck. Eyes wide, she caught the glint of the sword pressed dangerously at the skin below her chin. Her muscles were frigid upon the bed that seemed to grow hard as wood as a mirthful voice whispered harshly into her ear.

" **Hello, Bergdis.** "

Tears streamed down her face as a swift hand clamped down on her mouth, muffling the strangled cries that would have woken others from their deep sleep. The silent perpetrator leaned in closer, closer until she could feel hot breath burn her cheek and scalding lips against the shell of her ear while the attacker's clear words clouded her frantic mind.

" **You will tell me** _everything_ **you know about the great whore of Asgard.** "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to leave your thoughts and speculations in the comments! <3


	10. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heimdall observes as Thor interrogates the Dark Elf that made an attempt on the Queen of Alfheim's life, meanwhile recounting to Frigga what he is witnessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3000 VIEWS??!!!! It means the world to me and I love you all for it. Watch out for cyberkisses coming your way through your computer screen <3
> 
> Since these past 9 chapters have been all wrapped up in Loki and Reader's crazy relationship, let's take a break from all that angst, shall we?
> 
> Side note: Who do you think Bergdis' attacker was in the last chapter? Leave your thoughts and feelings in the comments below!

The rattle of chains against the marble floor echoed off the walls of the age old Asgardian throne room. The suspension of unease hung in the air, thickening it so that one might cut the tension with the edge of a dagger. No other sound pierced the silence, save for the low snarls of a prisoner as she was dragged to the center of the vast room, bound by shackles that dug into her pallid flesh. As the guards dropped her to the floor, the steel binds ground her skin with a painful friction that sent her alien features contorting in pain.

"Speak, you disgusting creature."

The elf glared back at the crown prince with sunken, black eyes. The soldiers had stripped her of the mask she wore in battle, exposing her defined Elven features to the hot Asgardian air. Slowly, her twisted lips split apart in a sickening grin as she broke out in taunting laughter, sending Thor's blood to a boil while his iron grip tightened upon Mjolnir.

With a thundering crack, Thor brought his palm down on the dark elf's bony cheek with the force of a galloping heard of horses charging onto a vast field. The elf spluttered blood and groaned through lips that had burst apart from the impact. Her cheek darkened to a deep blue, immobilizing the muscles she needed to form words. Any sound she made was guttural and from the bottom of her throat, which was hoarse and far too quiet for anyone who did not lean close. 

"I... would never... speak for you..."

"I did not ask for your opinion on the matter. We already know of your intentions to seize Alfheim. Tell us how you managed to infiltrate our staff and what your kind has planned for us. Let's not forget that you gravely hurt my wife - a deed for which you will pay dearly."

Through the blood pooling in her mouth, she grinned against the pain in defiance. Thor was further aggravated by the playful resistance in her soulless orbs, designed to unsettle any compassionate being in sight. He realized bitterly that the darkness was every bit as strong as the light the Aesir had come to dwell in from birth.

Thor clenched his jaw. Small shadows fell over tense muscle as he held her gaze with the steely nature of a king.

"I will not ask this again. How many of you survived the clash of eons ago? How did you escape? Who commands your attacks?"

"So m-many... questions... from so many fools..."

The ground shook under the crackling force delivered from the tip of the prince's mighty boot, into the elf's quivering stomach. Thor stepped back in disgust at the spurts of crimson tainting his shoe. No guard dared make a sound as the prisoner's faint wheezing filled the room in which Odin sat, expressionless at its head. 

The prince let out a humorless chuckle. "In all my years of battles won and raids victorious, I have never struck a maiden till she collapsed, clinging to the last sliver of life left in her body from my wrathful blow." The prisoner winced and raised a feeble hand towards Thor as he knelt to her level, leaning close. Menacing. Blue eyes blazing in fury, agleam with mirth. "But you are no maiden, are you? No. You are naught but one soldier out of an expendable many, made to follow orders like soulless slaves. By placing you in shackles, we have aided you in expressing your true purpose."

There was something in his voice; something that betrayed the candor surrounding his jovial reputation. Each hiss of his words posed as the embodiment of a threat, like a hidden darkness inside him only now scraping the surface. This alone frightened the dark elf to the point of paralysis; her black eyes blared at him, the blood pooling around her, the truth knocked from her form like the breath from her battered lungs. The prospect of yet more pain overshadowed her. 

Then she told him everything. 

 

 

 

One.

_Two._

The gatekeeper kept count of every blow the prince dealt to the trembling creature in the throne room. He was stoic as ever and stood in his usual position - knees a foot apart, shoulders broad, sword in his firm grasp. Muscles strained to tautness, hardened like cold stone. Irises burning amber as they flitted to take in each scene, every movement, every release of breath across the Nine Realms. 

For many a moon, Heimdall's interests had been directed to the strange interactions between Asgard's renowned trickster and the one he was to address as queen in a few months time. But that would have to wait. The interrogation of an enemy thought to be long gone advanced immediately to the top of his priorities.

The flame in his eyes shone bright as he peered into the scene, sharp and intent as a hawk. Were it not for his ability to see all that there was, his intense focus on Thor and the prisoner would have rendered him blind to Frigga's hurried entrance. Shimmering golden tresses danced in his peripheral vision as the Queen made her way to stand next to him. 

"What is it that you wish to know, My Queen?"

The gatekeeper's booming tenor would have startled most, but not the Queen of Asgard, who's visits had increased in frequency as of late. 

"Tell me what you see in the throne room, Heimdall."

Heimdall managed a small tilt of respect in her direction, and felt the force of worlds weighing down on his head. "As you wish, My Queen."

 

 

 

There she lay, motionless and worn upon cold stone. Even the sight of red that swept across her cheek in his wake was harsh to her, inducing hammering dread beating deep inside her broken body. 

 _No more,_ her own voice begged in her head as his bloodied footwear came into view,  _no more pain._

It was beneath her kind to crawl and plead at the feet of lesser beings, much less the enemy. Almost humbled by the pain, she would have wailed and begged for mercy if that would only cease his cruel mutilation of her flesh. Her cries for compassion would ring loud and clear throughout the halls of Asgard if only he would stop hurting her. 

If only she could speak. Her lips, split and caked with blood, stung with pain with each passing of shallow breath. He wasn't touching her now, not at all. He merely stood before her so that she could smell the mud on his cape and see the dark grey of his shoes. Pain thudded dully inside her long after the last time he'd shattered a portion of her rib cage. 

Never would she have anticipated this distasteful turn of events. How could she have known that Prince Thor's wife had much too observant an eye? _That did not end well for her,_ the elf chuckled darkly. It came across as more of a short exhale through the nose in her weak state. 

Thor's voice struck her like the hammer he wielded. 

"You mean to tell me that when your leader became aware of his imminent defeat, he pulled what little portion of his army he could still salvage into the safe suspension of time... only to be awoken by a powerful force, the key to domination over the realms, that we ourselves took from you and locked away all those years ago?"

"What more... do you wish to know?" the elf rasped, having gained sudden strength from the fuel of her anger. "How many centuries have yet to pass for you to accept your defeat? Our leader will bring us to a glorious end, the start of a new beginning as we smite you beneath our feet."

Odin's eyes narrowed upon hearing a chuckle that was, unmistakably, not Thor's. The booming laughter of his eldest son and heir had always been jovial, loud, presumptuous and everything not present in the sound that had just erupted from his lips: a snide exhale, dry of humor which dripped all the while with the damp humidity of sinking, slipping malice.

Thor's fist dove through her disheveled white tresses and tugged. A ferocious cry tore from her throat. The sharp pain in her scalp should not have stung as it did, but Thor made it so nonetheless. 

Blood filled her mouth and she drank it warmly. It tasted foul but at least it was liquid; something she had not been given since she was caught before she could slit the Queen of Alfheim's throat.

"I will tell you one final time", the prince hissed through his teeth, "I will ask the questions and you, my dear, shall supply the answers." Once again, she turned her face sharply from his hot, dangerous breath. " **Only** the answers."

At these words, his eyes flashed a bright green before shifting back to their original blue hue.

The elf was mortified.

 

 

 

Frigga paced behind the gatekeeper, back and forth in sync with her hammering heart.

"How were the dark elves awakened from the suspension, if not by the Aether itself?"

"It was, My Queen. The prisoner says it was found."

"By whom?"

"By a mortal. She says the Aether flows through the Midgardian's veins, like the blood that sates her being."

"And the elves felt it from within her?"

"Yes, My Queen. They know she cannot contain it for long."

"Such power must be protected, and the mortal saved from harm. I shall send Thor and the Warriors to retrieve her promptly."

"A course of action most wise, My Queen."

The silk of her violet gown fluttered at her feet as she turned to leave. Glinting, gold locks left Heimdall's peripheral vision. 

He heard the footsteps slow to a halt. 

"And what of the light elves slain in Nidavellir? Was the Queen of Alfheim targeted for nothing?"

The gatekeeper's glowing orbs narrowed a fraction as he continued to observe the interrogation. "The prisoner claims," he paused to hear the elf speak, "... that the lives of Light Elves lost play a part in something far greater."

The queen's brow furrowed, perplexed. "What could this mean?"

"Once the final member of a dark council is resurrected," Heimdall repeated the dark elf's words, "they will wage a war far greater and more destructive than any battle we have lived to see. It shall claim lives by the multitude as darkness rises to power whilst light dwindles in submission to the greater force."

Frigga did not reply, having just envisioned the frightful potential of the future spoken through the gatekeeper's ominous drone.

 

 

 

She lay motionless, wrapped in his arms, like a dove burrowing deeper into its nest for further comfort. No simple, slight smile graced her lips but serenity like a silent veil settling upon skin, soaking the flesh with the warmth and dull hum of peace. 

Often times, Loki wondered if her sole purpose on this realm was to scratch and gnaw at him until the deepest darkness within himself burst free and made him a monster. But in those rare moments, ones where he would let in the seductive promise of renewed hope - moments with her seemed to last a brief flit of time. And yet within each stolen glance, every hurtful barb spat through teeth, every cry of pleasure and of pain, those were, each of them, all eternities.

It was his curse yet also his greatest blessing to dwell in each and every rare infinity, right where he belonged and where he longed to stay.

This was the reason his eyes burned and his heart churned at the sight of her in his brother's arms; the both of them asleep and unaware of the man watching them. 

 

_"Brother," Thor had said lowly as the prince pulled him into a corner. The look in his eyes had been serious and so solemn which would have frightened those who'd grown accustomed to his usual cheer. "Brother, I am in need of your help. My wife... she is not well-"_

_"Seek the healers, then."  As soon as Loki had replied, Thor's expression faltered visibly. The raven-haired prince was taken aback; he hadn't meant to sound uncaring, but the edge and the nonchalance in his tone must have lead his brother to assume otherwise._

_If only he knew of the pulsating ache in his chest at the mention of her name._

_"'Tis true, the healers are able to close the most severe of wounds or cure any frightening ailment of the body. But they cannot cure those of the heart and mind. **Please,** Loki. Father has just called for the interrogation of our prisoner for which I must be present, but my wife cannot be left alone. I fear for her life, dear brother. She needs me; I cannot neglect her as I have so selfishly done in the past."_

_Loki remembered clenching his jaw and biting back the words which threatened to spill ferociously from his mouth._

_**I have never, nor would I ever leave her alone if only she were mine to pledge my love.** _

_**You do not deserve her.** _

_He'd swallowed dryly. "Do you know what it is that you ask of me, Thor? Taking a metamorphic form in the presence of your father is a great risk. Especially when he himself is familiar with this magic."_

_"If I must drop to my knees and beg, then so be it. She no longer seems to trust any servant to be alone with her. She speaks a name unknown to me in her sleep and seems alright to everyone in the day, yet I **know** she is anything but. Take my place at the interrogation, Loki. Exact our revenge on the prisoner who has damaged my wife - the future queen of Asgard."_

_The tips of Loki's fingers grew cold, like the insidious beginnings of frostbite hours before it drew the last sliver of warmth from his body._

_"What does she say when she sleeps?"_

 

 

 

Einar. 

A lone warrior.

A servant fabricated from the depths of his bottomless imagination. An alias that had grown popular among pretty handmaidens in the palace in the wake of each effortless sexual adventure. The dashing soldier with whom his brother's wife had fallen in love with the night of her wedding. 

Loki felt emptiness engulf him from the inside at this revelation.

_It was **him** she had loved all along._

_Not Loki._

Never Loki Laufeyson. 

The door of her chambers closed without the slightest creak when he left. He wiped his sleeve furiously at his eyes but the tears did not cease to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was just to expand the immersion by creating a story outside of the one we've been focusing on, in order to kinda set it a bit better. Apart from the Dark World plot, it's fused with the canon where Malekith slays a bunch of Light Elves and uses their blood to resurrect Laufey. It's a totally different timeline but this is an AU Thor fic so... *shrugs*
> 
> I'm not going to mention this a lot more and it won't really affect this story, but if you guys want I could write a sequel?
> 
> I'm so sorry this chapter took me so long to push out. I was away on a dive trip in the Phillipines :D  
> Then I got distracted in light of recent American political events involving the election of a certain orange person D:
> 
> So please don't abandon the story yet because IT WILL BE FINISHED
> 
> Love you guys <3


	11. Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares are not the only thing that plague Loki's restless mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a shorter chapter for you guys. Hope you guys aren't too disappointed, but the reason for this is because in order for me to not get so easily distracted from Book of Thorns, the chapters have to be shorter and take less time for me to write. Although I'm not the best writer, I always put a lot of effort into each chapter to ensure the best experience for you readers. Thank you so much for getting this far and putting up with long waits <3

Night turned to day, and days, weeks. The flaxen glow of the sun rising in the east was lost to Loki, for the only light which caught his worn eye was the gentle phosphorescence of the moon late into the night. It had no eyes to observe nor ears to lend as listener except silence and serenity to watch on in empathy. Such light, such luminescence, surrounded by endless darkness. The moon could never escape the black scape to which it was born. 

Maybe this was why the prince identified with it.

Since he'd learned the truth behind her constant rejection, sleep had evaded him once again. He obliged the insomnia though; perhaps every restless night was deserved, as he'd let himself be blinded by sentiment and affected by the disadvances of his brother's  _whore._

He clenched and unclenched his fists as the word left a foul taste in his mouth. He could never call her such a thing, not even in his mind - because she  _wasn't_ one. 

 _The things she said that morning on her bed,_ the stronger voice inside him raged,  _they are unforgivable._

Loki wanted desperately for his stomach to churn in disgust at a woman who held his heart in her soft hand and, instead of crushing it mercifully, continued to latch on and wring it like a vice, digging her nails into his sensitive core. He wanted to take violent hold of her chin and mar her comely features so that no man or woman might look upon her body with such damning desire as that of his. He wanted to make her suffer for all the pain she'd caused him with nothing but a stolen glance or simple touch. When the palace fell silent at midnight, Loki imagined wringing her beautiful neck with his hateful hands until her eyes glossed over like smoke in the wake of a smoldering flame. The sight of her wrapped in his brother's powerful embrace stirred many urges within him; one of them being to pry the snake from her burrow and pass a blade through her throat.

Wishing death upon Thor's wife was not new to him. The night he had taken her in the gardens never left his mind, as each breath, each blazing touch and every hushed word had given him life. It was as if she'd breathed part of her spirit into his the first time their tongues dueled in a dance of riveting desire. The scent of her hair, the curvature of her hips and the taste of her skin haunted his dreams. He repelled these thoughts as much as he held them close, like a man driven by a sweet addiction.

He would kill her if he had the chance. 

Over and over again, the scene of her blood painting his face in droplets played out in his mind. 

But then he would see her; pass her by in the halls or meet her distant eye across the table, and his heart would fill to the brim with hers. 

All thoughts of watching her life drain into warm blood would vanish... and dissipate into the softness of her lip between his teeth.

Life without her posed impossible for him. 

Loki took to his bed where his cape lay tangled in a mess of sheet and silk. It was a fine lush green, like the sun filtering into a hidden forest. Soft to the touch yet powerful in the heft of fine material it bore. Without even a thought he slipped it onto his firm shoulders, eyes tired and in need of the caresses of the cool night air.

The sole of his shoes were silent upon the marble corridors, his footsteps accustomed to slipping through the darkness leaving no trace of any shape, form or sound. His body stole through the halls, like a bounding shadow. Swift and cautious, he escaped into the midnight exposure of the royal gardens.

Crisp air sent a tingle through his pale cheeks and slipped into the creases framing each eye, soothing the tiredness there. Mouth dry as cotton as he sucked in a delicious breath of fresh surrounding. Despite the serene white glow that doused all flowers in its snowy shade, Loki could make out the many variations of lackluster Asgardian flora. The familiar fragrance of roses filled the air as he turned a corner of the floral labyrinth, like a reminder of the cruelest kind of what would forever be out of his reach.

Nature cried in warning for him to turn back. Every dizzying smell, every taste, each rough patch of shrubbery under his fingers prayed he be wary of their heed but it was no use. 

He'd seen it.

A low figure, doused in shadow beneath the moon's watchful light, appeared motionless in a hunched position. Loki's tongue darted to wet his lips in rising trepidation before he stepped close, eager to see who or what had escaped into the garden so late at night.

The moonlight fell upon tumbling tresses, bounding against a defined shoulder before filtering through the fine material of a nightdress; a silk sheet that billowed gently atop surrounding roots.

Loki's thoughts at first were of Lady Sigyn's pale complexion - one he knew to hold a radiant translucency, as if her skin had a jade-like opacity over the underlying bone. But Loki had escorted her off personally that night; seen her leave with her stump of a father. He could cringe with disgust at the fathers willing to pawn their daughters off to royalty for a pathetic scrap of gold. Unluckily for Loki, the figure before him was not that of his beautiful betrothed. 

From the shifting shadows peered two glowing orbs. Icy blue, blazing, staring eerily out at the cautious prince.

Eyes that he knew all too well.

"What are you doing here?" he asked steadily, warily conjuring a wisp of energy that warmed his palm.

A shiver crept along his spine at the unnatural laughter punctuating the air. It surrounded him, closing in until the insidious sound drowned out the tranquil hum of silence he'd sought from the gardens in the heart of night.

" _You are mistaken, Jotun heir",_ hissed the strange voice cloaked in darkness. " _I am not in the splendorous confines of Asgard's lavish garth, but the darkest, unparalleled depths of your own mind."_

"Spare me this needless discourse. You didn't worm your way into my head for a little chat, did you?"

Once again, a warped chuckle sent a shiver of unease down Loki's spine. It was the voice of indomitable magic trapped in the spirit of one who had managed to subdue its capabilities for their own gain. 

" _Indeed, I did not come to all this trouble to witness this blatant exhibition of inept Seidr tricks."_

Loki felt the confident pull of a smirk at the corner of his lips. "I won't hesitate to put them to use should you continue to evade my question."

" _You forget that you could not harm me if you died trying, for I am not truly in front of you."_ The cobalt orbs narrowed, almost in disbelief. " _Hmm. I would have expected a comment in regard to my current form, were it not for your present..._ situation _."_

An inexplicable heat rose to Loki's cheeks and the nape of his neck, fire taking the form of sweat building in his palms - but he suppressed the growing anxiety, as he had always done. "Why you have chosen to parade as my brother's wife is beyond even the extensive lengths of my comprehension."

" _The lady is, of course, exquisite in both mind_ and _body",_ mused the impostor darkly, " _so much so that I did not think twice before... 'slipping into her', if you will."_ He seemed particularly amused at the way the ice in the prince's furious glare confirmed the offence taken at his verbal quip. " _By the Norn's, you could render a man dead with that look alone."_

"'T'would not the first time something of the sort has occurred."

" _You have the confidence of a king, Laufeyson."_ There came an unsettling pause. The glowing orbs observed Loki as his chest rose rapidly with seething rage. " _Tell me, heir of Jotunheim, do you think yourself above consequence?"_

Loki's jaw tightened; withholding words which would have been unwise of him to spill. 

"No." 

" _Really?"_ The voice was skeptical, made colder by the humorless chuckle which followed. " _Your actions thus far lead me to assume otherwise."_

"What exactly do you mean?" snapped Loki with an air of annoyance. "Shall I keep listening to your futile riddle-speak as you rob me of another night's rest?"

" _You are not entitled to express your irritation before me - especially when it was_ your _utter incompetence that put such a hindrance in our operation."_

Loki stopped in his tracks, all thoughts of anger gone in the instant. "But- how?! I was disguised-"

_"As a pitiful merchant, yes. I am well informed. Unfortunately for us all, a child witnessed you entering my tent in the city last we met to discuss plans. You left the tent with the scriptures you needed for the cloaking spell which were inscribed with ancient runes - ones that emit a powerful blue glow after first initiation."_

The prince inhaled sharply. A sinking weight seemed to fall upon his chest. "The child... saw this glow, I presume."

" _You are correct, Laufeyson. Subsequent to your carelessness, the child went on to spread the word that a wizard resided in the city of Asgard. I began to receive visits from commoners asking for wealth, fame, love, a fruitful season, every pathetic request imaginable of the poor. And so I granted their wishes, in exchange for their secrecy. Only if they promised not to reveal my whereabouts would I even consider helping them. But these commoners are no honest folk. They are cheap, ravenous, unreliable. More and more of them arrived at the mouth of my tent until I decided to set a price - that price being a hefty sum of gold to reduce the affordability of my remedies, and their written consent allowing full access to their minds so that I could judge for myself if they were trustworthy. Of course, I had no use for gold. I could have entered their untrained minds and discovered their darkest secrets by force, as I have attempted with you, all on my own volition if I wished. But I had to quieten the bustle about the 'dark sorcerer' so that it would not reach the one we both work for."_

"I  _work_ for no one. I am simply aiding him in certain endeavors that will earn me my rightful place as king of my people."

" _Do not forget that I agreed to this in pursuit of my own goals as well. For the sake of this operation, I have tarnished the name of sorcery and used it to fashion love potions for lowly peddlers. A practice carried by generations, ridiculed! I am risking everything so that this goes completely as planned, and I will not let you jeopardize all we have achieved."_

"You cannot blame me for a single miscalculation. The Svartalf woman passed by the gatekeeper unnoticed-"

" _Thanks to_ my _spell-"_

"That  _I_ put to use during the arrival of the Light Elves, just as _he_ asked."

The sorcerer scoffed. " _And what has come of your 'achievement'? The Queen of Alfheim remains alive, thanks to the Thunderer's clever bride, and our assassin has now been taken prisoner and interrogated by none other than the crown prince himself!"_ The sorcerer spat each word as if it were foul to taste, glaring indignantly at the raven-haired spy. " _There is no doubt he now knows everything the prisoner does._ "

"I must interrupt, for you are in fact incorrect on the matter", Loki proclaimed with an accomplished smirk. "Masquerading as Thor in the presence of my father proved to be an easy feat."

The sorcerer shot him an incredulous glance which turned into one of reluctant commendation. " _That is, quite simply, very impressive. Though if you wanted the elf punished for harming your secret lover, you should have just asked."_

The smugness faded from Loki's features, replaced by the foreign furrows of fear. In fact, he could dare say this was an emotion he hadn't felt since he was a mischievous child, and for the most part of his life after that. He characterized it as a shadow that none could see nor hear, yet induced violent turns in his stomach and caused his heart to rapidly thump as the insidious shadow overtook his senses, regardless of whether he was willing. It forced from within him a weakness never visible to others; a piece of his soul prone to the monsters beneath his bed Mother had mentioned in one of her elaborate tales. That pure, unparalleled sensation of harrowing dread where nothing was as it seemed; a world where he was alone with none but enemies to keep him company. 

A lump formulated in his throat. Swallowing proved difficult; his mouth was parched, thirst unbearable. Resolution trembling, words caught between his teeth. At these times, Loki thanked his pride that forbade him from crumbling before a man who was clearly beneath him... though partaking in the same plan under the orders of the same authority.

Expecting his silence, the sorcerer continued. " _Fate has her plans for all of us, including you, Jotun heir. Imagine my bewilderment when a young woman came asking for the cure to her mother's mysterious ailment, only to reveal as I scoured the depths of her mind that she was in fact a royal healer sent from the palace by none other than Thor Odinson's consort, having sworn her to secrecy in exchange for my payment!"_

"And how does this concern _me_? What have I to do with this traitorous healer?"

" _Fool! Do not think that Malekith is oblivious to your little dalliance with Odinson's lady. Should any Asgardian discover your affair, it would not be long before they acquired witnesses, and if they managed to question the one that visited me, they would surely trace, from her, evidence of our correspondence in which you and I prepared for the **smuggling of a dark elf**_ _into Asgard!"_

"Don't be dramatic. Odin's followers haven't the mental capacity to deduce the whereabouts of a fly if it were laying its eggs atop their noses."

" _You try my patience, Jotun prince. I came bearing a warning from our leader."_

"Let me guess, he wants me to stop seeing her?" It came across as more of a statement than a question, which it was at heart. The prince scoffed and turned away from the sorcerer's wrathful glare. "You can tell him that I have done nothing of the sort as of the past year."

" _He understands this, I assure you. But heed my advice: you had best never act upon sentiment again... lest you face expulsion from our council."_

"Of course," said Loki, "anything that is necessary."

_"I do not want to have to meet under these circumstances again, Loki."_

"Understood."

 _"You could start by at least acting as though you mean what you speak."_ Slowly, the sorcerer rose to their feet, bringing the weightless billows of the future queen's nightdress with them. It fell against the curves of her figure and towards the earth at the ankles, white as the moon that slipped through the fabric with its gentle light.  _"Perhaps you are in need of a prompt."_

Only when he stepped from the shadows did Loki remember that the sorcerer had taken the beautiful form of the woman he loved. He knew well that this wasn't truly her and yet - he could not look away from her face; and the way it was framed so softly by the hair he yearned to run his fingers through, the gentle curve of her breasts made visible by the incandescent light causing a gripping tension in his core. The body that stood before him was only one of the sorcerer's many suits, but it drove Loki mad with lust and detrimental love all the same. 

His desire did not go unnoticed by the sorcerer, who let out a cunning smirk. Loki's gaze flitted to her eyes, and with a sudden gasp of horror, saw all that wasn't his beloved within their conniving gleam. The sorcerer laughed. Only this time, in  _her_ voice.

Loki cursed inwardly as he started to shake with emotion. He knew very well it wasn't her that emitted that joyous sound, but it had been so long since he had seen her smile, let alone laugh in any form of content. Through all the confusion, he swore with his life that he would hold on to the image, this exquisite mirage in which her lips would part and set free a note of sweet joy.

"I wonder if she'd remain so enamored with you if she knew you were the one who let the assassin into the realm."

Somehow, hearing this in her voice affected him all the more, and Loki was sure that this was every bit the sorcerer's intent. "How could I have known that the elf would attack her instead?! The least I can do is be grateful with the fact that she is alive, for which I am - eternally!"

"Surely you must know that there are other far _severe_ results of the attack?"

A single glance at Loki's puzzled expression caused a sad smile to form across her lips. This confused the prince all the more, and as she turned to leave, she spoke a final warning with such genuine sincerity, he had never thought to hear it from the sorcerer.

" _Remember your place, Jotun heir. Or you will lose everything."_

 

 

 

Loki awoke with a jolt. Beads of sweat left glistening trails along his throbbing temples. As he fisted the sheets beneath him, he realized with disgust that they were soaked with the liquid heat of his back. He could have compared the sensation to a thousand daggers plunging through his skull, or if someone had tried to pierce the veil of his mind in order to gain unwarranted access. 

The latter was closer to what he'd actually experienced, of course. The prince would have laughed if he weren't in agony. 

Like all nights, he lay on his back and stared aimlessly at the ceiling and waited for the pain to gradually disappear.

It never did, of course. 

So he would allow his eyes to close, and conjure the image of that sweet laugh until the nightmares plagued him no more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COME ON GUYS, CAN WE HIT 150 kudos by 2017?!?! It would mean the world to me before I head off to the Mainland to visit my grandparents' new house, meaning zero Facebook and slow internet access D:
> 
> I really think we can!! Every kudos is a minute of writing sped up!! *grins shamelessly*
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS AND IM GONNA GO TO SLEEP NOW BECAUSE ITS 5AM AND I REALLY SHOULD REST


	12. Sigyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk with Thor and the couple-to-be; Loki and Sigyn, allow for the brothers to converse and you to get to know the new lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, 4000 HITS!!!!! I LOVE YOU GUYS This is the farthest I've made it in all the fanfics I've written so far. I feel like I'm destined to finish it! Thank you so much to all of you for sticking with me up to this point, and for leaving wonderful comments!
> 
> If you are in any way struggling to imagine Sigyn's face, my actress of choice would be the beautiful Katie Mcgrath (because im not even kidding lol at one point morgana and loki were like my otp) though you can imagine her any way you like if you already have someone in mind :D

_Amidst a field of green snakes, I waded, in a frantic attempt to stay above the mass of sliding bodies. I felt the smooth caress of their sides against my ankles as they squirmed and slithered between the cracks of my toes and across my bare feet. The slipping serpents were like tubes of ice beneath my soles as I continued to traverse the sea of shifting clusters. The mass emulated a vast ocean from afar, rippling sage with each bending movement of the hectic ophidians._

_My eyes, overwhelmed by flashes of bright green, scanned my surroundings - only to find that they were limited, without even a horizon to cast my focus upon. Never had I laid eyes on such a vivid scene which gripped at my soul and filled my heart so fully with hope. Patches of green with shades varying from dark to light, begged me to cast a glance their way. As I yielded to their request, minuscule black eyes returned my stare by the millions. Each pair watched me intently, never concealed by their lids for they remained open without fault. It should have felt greatly unsettling for some and yet, as I peered into those beady, curious pools of black, something within me seemed to swell and grow magnificently. A feeling of renewal, of surging energy, reborn from grief, pushed against the confines of my innards as it shot through my body to the very tips of my fingers._

_Then out of nothing, a whisper._

_My name._

_I whipped my head round to the direction from which I thought the voice had come. I waited intently, ears perked for any noise apart from the curious hisses of the serpent crowd._

_I continued to look around until my eyes fell on a slender, black form just a few feet away from where I stood. Another snake; similar in length to all the others but glossed with a coat of pitch. The serpent lay in a motionless state, though I could tell it was anything but dormant as the surrounding reptiles visibly parted to reveal a grassy path on which the black snake rested. Like the still air, I waited - my breath suspended as the serpent slowly but surely lifted its head. A flicker of tongue darted from its mouth in a steady hiss._

_The stirs of impending danger wallowed in my stomach, and I was overwhelmed by a strong sense of unease. I stepped backwards instinctively, hoping to be rid of the suffocating distress that caged me. As soon as I did so I froze with regret. The grass crunched with disturbance beneath my foot, disrupting the silence that had unsettled and calmed me all at once before I'd moved. I could already feel, without a doubt, that the snake's attention was now undividedly on me._

_Inky pools, trained on me. Observing my every movement akin to a hawk monitoring its subject of prey._

_I heard my name being called again, this time as if someone were speaking it directly into my ear. Briefly distracting me from the glinting fangs on either side of the serpent's jaw as it parted into a vicious grin._

 

A sudden energy surged through my veins, causing me to bolt awake in my bed. Frantically, my eyes searched the surrounds for some semblance of familiarity while my heart thumped against my rib cage in trepidation. No hints of green lay coiled in dim-lit corners, nor was the dark serpent anywhere to be found in the room that I gradually remembered to be my chambers. In fact there was no trace of those hues at all, for the space was draped in similar shades of scarlet and a rich, milky fabric, lined with artfully frayed gold thread. Never had it crossed my mind that this was by far my least favorable combination of colors, so why I'd been subjected to this excessive array of aggressive-looking decor was far beyond me. 

The warmth of my name being spoken a third time engulfed me once more, and I turned to be met with the tender furrows of Thor's golden brow. He placed a large hand on my forehead and felt the slick heat of stray hairs against my temples. I leaned into his touch and drank comfort from his tender caress. 

He said nothing but from his eyes, I knew he ached to ask me why I was drenched in sweat, gasping and trembling so suddenly. 

This was not the first time those teal orbs had gazed into my own with such concern and an almost innocent curiosity as to the cause of my distress. And like always, I returned the look with a pleading one of my own. 

Thor respected my decision not to reveal what nightmares disturbed my sleep. Just as he did this time. 

I followed his gaze as it trailed down to my lower abdomen which, I realized suddenly, was covered by my own hand. No sooner had I felt the way my fingers seemed to clutch at the scarred flesh on their own accord did I pull away from Thor's embrace, eyes wide and anxious. To my surprise, a low chuckle rumbled through his chest at my reaction. I turned to look back at him, my brow quirked with confusion and slight anger.

"Do not mock my disquietude, I beg you." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. His laughter only grew louder.

"We have all the time in the world to produce an heir, my love." Thor drew me close to his chest and pressed a kiss to my hairline. "You mustn't spend too much of your time thinking about it, especially when you should be resting."

"But I'm tired of resting, Thor! It has been so long since I've been allowed to roam the palace alone, not accompanied by some guard that won't stop breathing down my neck wherever I turn!"

The prince gave me a look of unadulterated care and worriment - one that I had seen each morning every day over the past months. He released a sigh of defeat before meeting my gaze with a small smile. "Lady Sigyn arrives at midday to discuss plans for the wedding. I had hoped for you to speak with her, or should I say, encourage her to be at ease around us while introducing to her the magnificent expanse of our palace."

Another mention of that woman's name and I would have fallen apart in a pit of despair. To talk to her was the last thing I wanted in that moment. But of course, Thor was not aware of how desperately I had tried to forget about the distastefully flawless features of Loki's intended. 

But if this was my once chance at escape from the confines of those blaring walls...

Looking towards the floor, I gave a small nod to inform him of my decision. Thor let out an amused snort. "You and your bashfulness," he cooed jokingly, "I would never believe I could grow to love you as I have, if I hadn't the pleasure of keeping you company every day." My hands were engulfed in the heat of his, while his orbs glinted beneath the sun, searching the depths of mine as he tried to understand what was going through my mind. Like always, he soon gave up.

"I should get ready, then."

"Yes," agreed my husband, "let us break our fast, and then we shall meet with Loki for further instruction. There is still much to discuss regarding preparations for the wedding ceremony and the mortal we have yet to retrieve from Midgard. And then..." With a gentle finger, Thor guided my face towards his tender gaze. "We shall set forth our proposal to feed all families in the city this month without fail."

Despite myself, a smile ghosted across my lips, replacing the somber curve of a slight frown I had sported up until that moment. "Will we have to beg the Allfather like we did when we asked for a hundred and fifty seamstresses to be employed at the palace, so as for them to craft blankets for the poor?"

"My love, and I say this with utmost adoration, you are very skilled in the art of persuasion. If you were my enemy, you'd need only cast me a glance before I fall to your knees in submission."

Giggling proved difficult to suppress. "Are you not already at my mercy, My Lord?" Thor growled and buried his bearded face into the crook of my neck, eliciting a shriek from me as the weight of him pushed me back onto the mattress with a soft thud. I erupted into a fit of giggles as his hands roamed my sides playfully before they came to rest on the curve of my buttocks. The heat of his breath against my lips made mine hitch in my throat, a finger tracing a sensual line on the inside of my clenched thighs. 

"Indeed," he murmured against the corner of my mouth, "I am a slave to your mind, and a servant to your body. I am-"

Abrupt knocking filled the room with its hollow sound, and Thor groaned in annoyance. "Your Highness," came a masculine bellow from beyond the door, "the Allfather requests your presence in the dining hall."

The prince looked as though he wanted to scream vulgarities and wake the whole palace, which made me laugh in amusement. Cheeks reddened, breath quickening, he was just as flustered as I as he reluctantly removed himself from atop me and went to move for the door. "Join us when you're ready, my wife. We have much to discuss." My golden-haired husband turned to wink a flirtatious eye at me before leaving my chambers, hoping I did not notice the glare he shot the innocent guard who had disturbed our 'conversation'.

 

 

 

Her flowing dark mane caught my eye before that of her horse's as she trotted alongside her father and his steed with the noble postures of what I could only describe as the like of a renowned clan. From the distance her eyes were narrow as she peered through the blinding sunlight towards us. The lady dismounted her horse; swift without stumble, then assisted her father with doing the same. Pale pink lips parted in a charming grin whilst she ran to embrace a stoic Loki, who returned her fondness with a courteous smile of his own. 

Like all the other times we had crossed paths, Lady Sigyn sported a gown of emerald that lightened the lines of her figure beneath the sun, setting her aglow. I had never been one to believe in perfection, but as I stared at her face which lit up in blatant joy - everything I thought I knew about beauty seemed to bend and merge into the form of her flawless frame. 

"Hello, Loki." Sigyn looked toward the ground with her lip between her teeth, biting back a smile. "Did you miss me?"

The younger prince bent to kiss the space on her forehead, just above a tasteful band of gold. "More than you can fathom."

A bitter taste fouled the tip of my tongue. My jaw tightened to maintain the smile I'd worked so hard to form. 

The short old man with rounded, red cheeks stepped forth from behind her and spoke, in a scolding tone, "My dear, you have yet to greet Prince Thor and his wife!"

Sigyn gasped, a white hand flying to her mouth in shame. "Oh, how thoughtless of me to have forgotten! Prince Thor, Your Highness, it is always the greatest honor to be invited to Asgard, and to be in the presence of you all."

"Do not be ridiculous, Lady Sigyn," said I, taking her hand in my own, "we are allfriends here."

Sigyn beamed in appreciation and I did my best to return it with a welcoming air. "If that is what Your Highness wishes."

"Father and Mother suggested that you are shown around the palace before we join them for dinner. My wife shall introduce you to our head of staff and guide you through the halls so that you are better acquainted with our surroundings." Thor gestured for her to stand beside me but cast a knowing glance upon her eagerness to keep her eyes trained on his brother. "I've no doubt that you would like to spend all afternoon with Loki, and believe me I will not deprive you of that wish for long. There are just some matters we must discuss before I pass him on into your sweet embrace."

Sigyn's cheeks flared red as blood as Loki glared icily into the back of his brother's golden head. "Awfully charming today, aren't you, _brother_?"

"Merely delighted for our company."

"I would be happy to show her around, my love. Just don't get up to too much trouble when we've gone." Sigyn looked up from the ground and smiled gratefully at me as I began to lead her away from my grinning husband and her unamused betrothed.

 

 

 

"Tell me, Lady Sigyn," I inquired steadily as we traversed the east corridor, "what is your stance on the management of our palace? Do be honest with your criticisms, Thor and I strive to bring the best out of our staff for our guests."

Her smile was meek. "My visits to Asgard, though few, have been nothing short of amazing. Forgive my emotions, Your Highness - but each time I am graced by the scenes of this realm upon my arrival, I cannot contain my excitement." 

A near childish gleam shone bright in her eyes, and seemed to hold such gleeful joy that my heart could not help but lift at this display of innocence in its purest form. 

We passed by the royal kitchens from which the frantic clanking of steel pots and a pleasant smell of cooked meat and fresh bread wafted forth. My mouth parted slightly, allowing the delicious scent to find my tongue and warm my throat. I laughed inwardly at Sigyn who was undoubtedly doing the same.

"The cooks have been working all day in preparation for tonight's feast. I cannot stress how delighted we are that you and your father are with us once again."

"Oh, Your Highness," her dark brows knitted in worry, "you should not have gone to such trouble for me and my father alone!"

I waved a hand dismissively. "You are of great importance to us all, as you are aware. You're soon to be part of our family, how could we not treat you as part of it?" Seeing her distress, I threaded an arm through hers so that we were connected by this gesture of trust. Though I would have liked to say it was an act; a cruel ploy to gain the faith of an adversary in love, I couldn't help but envision a future in which this naive girl and I were friends. My train of thought was disrupted once I realised my smile had faltered, so I renewed it the best I could. "Besides, you are not the only guests who'll be joining us tonight. A few citizens of Asgard should be arriving soon to negotiate plans to provide the poor with necessities."

Sigyn gave me a vacant look which confirmed, to me, the concerns that plagued her mind. A sigh escaped me before I could stop it. 

"Your Highness-"

"I apologise for my misbehaviour at the last ball." I strained to speak as we reached the end of yet another decorated hallway, "it must have frightened you. But you must be lenient with me, it had not been a year since my marriage to Thor, I was very much unaccustomed to the stress that came with my role as future queen of this great realm. I had been upset that night due to my exhaustion in preparation for the banquet - and do not like to think of what our guests must have thought."

The timid expression on Sigyn's face fell into one of utter mortification. She shook her head desperately, pleadingly, "Surely I deserve death for bringing up such a terrible memory! I swear on my life it was not my intention, I was thinking about it only out of admiration for how composed and...  _queenly_ you seem today, it's true! Your Highness, I am so very sorry-"

"It's quite alright." Sigyn looked no less horrified and no more convinced. I breathed out a sigh, hoping that it did not sound as unstable as my resolve at that moment. "I'm glad you think so highly of me. If this is not too much to ask, I'd like everyone to forget as quickly as possible."

Nodding frantically, Sigyn promised never to speak of it again. "Understood, Your Highness."

Lush green shrubbery came into view, signaling the beginnings of the garden trail. Even from a distance, the sight of rosy hues and cool violet blossoms invoked a sense of calm within me as we approached the marble walkway, hooked at the arms. 

"Lady Sigyn?"

"Yes, Your Highness?" Her nervous swallowing did not go unnoticed by me, especially when I felt slight vibrations against her skin as she trembled. 

"What's wrong? Is the flora not to your liking?"

"No, I just..." she retracted her arm from mine and walked to stand slowly in front of me. The short exhales of shaking breath and the crimson of her cheeks could have been likened to one of the single roses quivering in the wind. The face of fear, which held the irony of being unafraid to express the true extent of her uncertainty. "Loki does not yet know that we are to be wed."

I thanked the gods in silent prayer for Sigyn who, whilst looking away had her eyes clouded with tears, so that she could not see my own. To keep my voice above a whisper I cleared my throat audibly. "I am sure he will be elated with this arrangement once he does."

The bottom of her lip trembled. She appeared suddenly so frail, like a young petal barely clinging to its source flower. Doubt was the wind, relentless in its endeavor to detach her from the whole of herself. "But," her voice cracking with emotion, "what if he does not love me?"

_I pray he does not._ "Why would you say such a thing? He adores you!"

"We've only met a number of times."

"Do not try to fool me into thinking the number of encounters between you both, however few, has stopped you from being completely and utterly smitten with him."

Sigyn cracked a smile. "It's true. I've grown terribly fond of him, I don't know what I'll do if my feelings are unrequited." Sigyn lead us to a sheltered stone bench and bade me sit beside her on the cool rock. "As a child, I was told countless tales of frost giants and their monstrous and relentless nature. When Father first told me of Prince Loki's true heritage, I wept and wept, terrified of what was to come. But after we were introduced at the ball... I cannot express it in mere words. It is as though he has placed a charm on me so powerful, I am forced to think of him every waking moment and each restless night." Every word that fell from her lips under the dangerous curse of unadulterated honesty could well have been a thousand daggers maiming my flesh and digging into my spirit beneath it. She must have noticed my silence, for her smile faded once more to a conscious frown. "You must think me so weak. I'm no better than a wanton whore to desire a man so passionately after first glance."

"You must never speak of yourself in that manner; your beauty must have earned you many suitors, and this time, you've merely found the right one."

 

 

 

"So," said the crown prince, quirking a brow, "what do you think of Lady Sigyn?"

Cold grey walls stretched out for a number of long strides before parting into an open path that coiled round the training square. Soft grass rustled beneath their feet, the audible difference in the weight of each brother's steps mingling with the distant birdsong. "She is a virtuous young woman."

The raven-haired prince jolted forward as his brother put a hand on his shoulder in a firm pat. "Come now, Loki! Is Sigyn not the comeliest maiden you have ever laid your eyes on?"

Loki rolled his eyes and looked away from his brother's hopeful grin. "I am not oblivious to the attractive design of her features." With his gaze trained on the path ahead, he shook loose of Thor's hand and continued forth in quickened strides. "Furthermore, I can place a most confident wager that the maidens I have taken to my bed are all, every single one of them, fairer than those you've attempted to coax into yours."

"So you find her attractive?" Thor gained on his brother with a wide grin plastered across his bearded face. It came out not as a question but rather a statement looking to be confirmed. Loki's exasperation could hide no longer, and he exhaled in irritation. 

"Physically, yes. I think you've made it quite clear that you agree."

"And do you not find her eligible as a partner?"

"Careful now, brother. You're married."

"And you should be too!" By now, the birds that had been perched on high branches had fled into the sky from the sheer volume of Thor's enthusiasm. "Have you not even for a second considered taking Sigyn as your wife?"

"No."

"What sane man would refuse such a lovely damsel?"

"I regret to think what your wife would say after hearing words of such adoration for another woman pour from your mouth."

"She knows full well that I'd not sleep beside anyone but her. Dote on Sigyn all you will, brother, but she will never amount to the fairest in all of Yggdrasil."

"That would be true if I had ever 'doted on', or thought 'dotingly' of Lady Sigyn..." the ice in Loki's glare halted Thor in his tracks, "which I have not."

"Brother, believe me. I shared your state of mind when my wife and I first met as one another's betrothed. But after a period of courtship, we've grown to love each other quite ardently; I cannot think of another woman more fit to rule Asgard by my side."

"She was forced into a marriage with you after meeting you on but two occasions. You hardly 'courted', and given my deep understanding of your character after countless centuries of being your brother, you most certainly do not love her."

"And what would you know of 'love'?" Nostrils flaring slightly, Thor's rippling chest heaved in quite anger. He stepped away from the younger prince in confusion in a stance akin to one of caution. "Why do words of such hostility fall from your tongue today?"

"Spare me your theatrics, Thor. I may be silvertongued, but I'll speak the truth when it must be spoken."

"My wife and I happen to be very fond of each other!" Loki was not oblivious to the anger rising dangerously in Thor's defensive state. He had always commended his golden-headed brother for how much he had matured and changed throughout the years, from a brash, entitled little boy to a brave warrior who was, as much as Loki would never admit it, eligible as king. But the one thing that hadn't been lost from Thor's transition of worthiness, the only flaw the heir had not managed to conceal, was his inability to hide or control his ferocious temper.

_How could he rule a kingdom if it takes but a few barbs to ignite his fury?_

For a moment, Loki fell silent. His heart, though fortified by stone, could not take more pain from the reality of his unrequited love, as much as he denied the shaking in his core as Thor continued to cling to the subject.

But, despite the guilt, the emotion which gnawed at his being, aggressive as an unrelenting parasite, he felt a resonating need so incredible, so strong, it was impossible not to fulfill.

The need to know.

"Please, enlighten me as to the extent of your 'fondness' for one another, and I shall see if it amounts to the passionate love you claim to share."

Despite having tolerated neglect and self-loathing all his life, Loki had never allowed others to destroy him from the inside with mere words, save for Odin's cruel confession as to his true origins that had etched a mark of pain on Loki's heart, and stole from his self-worth ever since. At the time he could have prevented it, could have just ceased to retaliate and accepted the harsh slap of reality with a clenched jaw and pale knuckles, as he always had.

Thor opened his mouth and Loki shut his eyes in preparation for the truth that was to come.

Alas, his curiosity never failed to shine through everything he had worked to be, all he'd spent blood and sweat to achieve, everything he had tasted the iron and grime on his tongue in pursuit of... and it would destroy him now.

 

 

 

"He treats me very well."

"Like a queen?" Sigyn flashed me a playful grin, revealing a row of ivories that reminded me of the glint of a line of pearls beneath the welcoming sun stream. A smile stretched across my own lips that had begun to crack from the dry heat.

"I would say so, yes."

Sigyn directed her stare to the vibrant greens of the shrubbery ahead, her tone hopeful. "My greatest wish is for a day to come on which Loki and I will share a love as sweet as that between Your Highness and Prince Thor."

There was determination in her glazed emerald orbs, a light that shone bright as the day and ferocious for a woman so young and so frail. It was delicate, yet overwhelming, sending a jolt of powerful resolution through me and shattering what little confidence I'd had in hopes of Loki's trembling professions of his undying love for me being true.

This woman - no, this _girl_ , the solution of the gods to hide our unforgivable sin, was far more beautiful than I could ever hope to be. Her resolve was like a moonstone - opaque upon first glance, yet subtle and bright from within. In her innocence, she was far stronger than I.

What a fool I had been to think that Loki's tender promises to love me held any semblance of truth! There was no way, no sudden impossible turn of events that the man for whom I would spill my own blood would keep interest in me over a young, obedient, beautiful lady.

A harrowing wave of solemn struck me and, seeing as Sigyn was looking ahead, I let my smile fall to a frown as my heart grew heavy under its grave weight. 

For the first time since my arrival at Asgard, I wished for naught but emptiness.

 

 

 

Maybe the gods bestowed their mercy on me in the form of an altered seating plan. 

I had to refrain from breathing a sigh of relief when Thor chose a seat at the other end of the elongated dining table, far from where the King and Queen and Loki and Sigyn dined upon furnished oak. The halls filled with bustling laughter on one end and the murmurings of gossip on the other, lighting the room with cheer and a trivial sort of inquisition. 

The skirts of my modest gown folded like sheets of gold under the table as I took my seat, my bodice the color of fine wax that dripped from the many candelabras adorning the dining hall. Dressing for the occasion and blending with my surroundings all the while had become quite the routine for me - perhaps too much so for a woman who was about to inherit the role requiring the greatest amount of social interaction in the realm. 

Unable to stop myself, my eyes flitted to where Loki sat. The muscles in his back strained beneath leather as his posture straightened profusely, uncomfortably, almost as if he were aware of my stolen glances.

A shiver ghosting down my spine alerted me to the insidious pair of eyes upon my face after a mere instance of returning to my food. I angled my head towards Thor in attempt to appear uninterested, scouting for the source of the stare with my peripheral vision all the while. At last, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. It was Sif, dressed in earthy garbs, drinking alone across the hall peering in my direction with a dirty sneer. 

I was immensely annoyed, but also strangely thankful - her relentless surveillance would allow me to concentrate on the matters at hand. 

Between lords and ladies, representatives of the city and us the royals, negotiations were amiably discussed. The select few of the townspeople were surprisingly understanding and seemed appreciative of our incentive to finally take action in helping the poorest in the city. Barely an hour had passed before major agreements had been made: the leftovers from palace feasts would be delivered to those without food in the town, the seamstresses would be dispatched from Alfeim and other neighbouring realms to decrease the number of the unemployed and supply poor Asgardian citizens with blankets and clothing. Women and children of age would also be allowed to work in the palace for a source of income, meanwhile populating the palace staff and increasing productivity. 

This was our first meeting in which everyone of importance was gathered to make these decisions and determine the future of Asgard's citizens. Despite being new to this, a surge of beginner's pride radiated throughout me as I signed the first treaty excitedly. 

Three crystal chimes echoed across the dining hall. The crowd fell silent, each head craned to look at the Allmother who had met silver with glass before setting it back down alongside an array of gleaming cutlery. As usual, a radiant beam was plastered across her lips as she proclaimed energetically, "fellow lords and ladies, spokespeople of the city, ambassadors from afar, the King would like to make a most joyous announcement."

Odin placed both hands on the armrests for support as he arose, the chair creaking quietly under the stress. The grey wisps of his beard were not nearly as frayed as the hair normally was, instead falling tidily as a sign that he had groomed beforehand for the event.

"As you are all aware, I made a marriage of my son Thor, to his beautiful wife not long ago." The crowd erupted in vigorous applause when the King nodded towards us before turning to face the dark-haired prince and the woman beside him, candid eyes flitting mischievously between the two. A look of genuine confusion painted Loki's features while tremendous anxiety fell on Sigyn's. "Prior to the ceremony, her father and I deemed each other's offspring a suitable match for our own and subsequently, they were wed. Now another arrangement has been made."

"What is this?" A whisper fell from Loki's lips in dread, following the trail of the King's focus to the blushing Lady Sigyn. Her father grinned happily beside her.

"For too long our son Loki has been without a wife, a partner to accompany him for the rest of his immortal life. Because of this, we have found him an appropriate match and have been granted gracious permission from her father."

I was never prepared for the moment Loki's eyes sought my own across the vastness of the dining table that evening. They were wide, blazing with betrayal infused with the sharp gold flares of underlying anger, challenging me to hold his stare, begging helplessly for any explanation I could provide him. 

I staggered to give him one but emerged with none, only reading his thoughts from his eyes while struggling to conceal tumultuous emotions of my own.

_I never knew_.

"And thus, I, Odin Allfather, permit and announce the coming union of the lovely Lady Sigyn and our son, Loki Odinson."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stole some bits from game of thrones in this chapter but I hope it fit nicely :D
> 
> I have a question for you guys. Should I add a smut scene in one of the coming chapters? I know I said that there would not be any smut in this story but I feel like it would really create a deeper emotional impact after I touch on the intensity and intimacy between the characters. I have never written lemons into my stories before, so this would be a whole new frontier for me :P
> 
> I've put a lot of thought into this and I would really appreciate if you guys could weigh in with your opinions. Thanks again for reading this chapter! Leave kudos and stay tuned for more!


	13. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later that night, Loki spots Thor stealing you away to his chambers, which angers him immensely. He drags Sigyn into the darkness of the palace halls and takes out his dangerous desires on his all-too-eager betrothed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN SO LONG BUT I HAVE BEEN EXTREMELY BUSY THESE PAST MONTHS, NO JOKE. PLEASE ACCEPT THIS YUMMY CHAPTER AS A SINCERE APOLOGY.
> 
> Be warned that there are some slightly sadistic themes in which Loki disregards other peoples' pain in pursuit of his own pleasure.

The guests stood from their seats with vigor, encouraged by the King who had his goblet raised in celebration. Chairs were kicked back in jovial spirit, the tablecloth stained with the spillage of wine as the guests rose eagerly with the Allfather. Even Sif, who had jeered inwardly at the scowl on Loki's face, had joined the crowd and was now cheering eagerly with the rest of them. I saw her eyes fall on Sigyn, and in them was a look of sympathy. 

"Let us drink to my brother and his new bride!" Thor directed his gaze toward Loki and for a moment, distraught orbs met brief satisfaction. Loki looked as though he might collapse from the sheer horror of seemingly no one being aware of his confusion. The guests erupted in cheer and drank heartily from their goblets of ale.

_"To Loki and Sigyn!"_

My fingers curled round the armrest in an iron grip, the oak digging into the palms of my hands. Despite it all I was smiling; unsure of whether or not it would be safe to let my smile falter beneath the eagle's constant gaze. Maybe I should have just excused myself and feigned illness once again - after all, that was what I'd been doing for many a time since my arrival on Asgard. As the people around me returned to their seats I drowned in memories of when I first arrived, eager to get away from the commotion and catastrophe that was the result of this sudden celebration.

Glancing into my lap, I became transfixed by the creases in the material. A warm hand encased my shoulder as Thor leaned in close, the banter of guests fading into a distant blur. My breath caught in my throat and I froze, unsure of what my husband had planned.

"My love..." His breath ghosted the shell of my ear, words sultry, drawn out, and low. I met his gaze immediately and was lost in those gleaming pools, blue as the bright sky in which soaring herons roamed free and proud. Fondly, I let my fingers trail from the rough hairs on his jaw to the gold on his chin, coming to cup his face in my hand as he leaned into my touch. The black of his eyes, never leaving mine, grew wide and deep with desire as the pad of my thumb brushed the top of his lips. In that moment they seemed incredibly soft, almost like cotton beneath my gentle touch. Heat danced across my knuckles from the quickened breaths of my husband who was peering, searching my eyes so hungrily, I felt it would be cruel to deny him what he so desperately wanted.

We had not been intimate with one another for a long while, so I could imagine his frustration when we were interrupted this morning. Whenever he would slide his hand atop mine, or brush the tips of his fingers against my thigh I'd say I was too tired, and he, being an honorable gentleman, would never go against my wishes.

"Yes, My Lord?" I could no longer play coy when a particular little flick of his tongue left the tender skin behind my ear coated in wet heat; a fire began to ignite shamefully in my core and by now I was squirming in attempt not to catch the notice of the men sitting on either side of us, who were fortunately too engrossed in conversation to pay us heed. The flesh of my cheek ached between clenched teeth as I suppressed a wanton whimper at the spasms of tingling heat across my skin when Thor pressed his lips in a trail to my shoulder. My chest heaved in anticipation, "Thor, we are in a public place."

"Then we have all the more reason to seek privacy elsewhere." he murmured against my skin, tickling the crook of my neck with his unshaven jaw. Without warning the heat of his hand fell on my rear in a firm grip, and I gasped audibly. Across the table an older woman stared at us in disapproval before continuing to slice through a large helping of broiled meat. I erupted in a fit of giggles like a complete fool, made happier when Thor did the same. The crown prince gave me one last tender look before guiding me from my seat and away from the dining hall with a roguish grin plastered on his face all the while.

 

Loki felt afraid. He experienced a fear so full of uncertainty and doubt of everyone and himself that in the moment Odin announced the union, he was frigid from head to toe. Frozen, trapped in an encasement of betrayal from the King, betrayal from Thor and his mother, and his 'intended' Sigyn. 

 _Intended..._ oh, how he loathed the word. It was one that belittled love in its truest form, reducing it to some grand event that could be plotted and anticipated by others. It could well have been used to describe the actions of busy palace staff in preparation for a coming solstice, or a present waiting to be gifted. That was exactly what Lady Sigyn was, wasn't she? A beautiful maiden served to him on a silver platter, with green garbs intact, ready for him to do as he pleased with her.

His stomach churned in disgust at the thought. 

Frozen with apprehension he had let his eyes wander to the woman seated far from him on the end of the table, exposing himself to her eyes in his most vulnerable, most naked form. His eyes swam with weakness and fragility as he bared himself to her without a thought, drinking frantically at the emotion in hers that comforted him for some deranged reason. Never before had his desire burned so bright in his core while he searched those watery orbs once more for the answer to the question he'd asked all those nights ago, beneath the secrecy of the moon and nothing else.

A gentle hand came to rest on his forearm. Loki broke from his reverie and followed Sigyn's gaze. She was staring off towards the end of the long table where Thor and his wife seemed so blissfully enamored with each other, far from the heat of Loki's blood boiling beneath his skin.

"Look, My Prince!" the girl whispered gleefully, "see how they forget the world around them as they gaze into one another's eyes."

"You pay my brother too much heed, Sigyn."

"I only admire their bond."

"Admire them any longer and I should think you in love with my brother."

A pleasant floral sent swept through his senses from the crown of Sigyn's dark head laid on his shoulder. "Don't be silly, Prince Loki." She turned to look up at him with large, lively eyes that mirrored the shine of his, "I only have eyes for you."

But the prince's stare was upon anywhere but her. He growled lowly, throat parched, jaw hideously clenched at the sight of the first born son leading his wife away from the dining hall, slipping into the darkness. Stealing what he thought was his, oblivious to the gravity of his innocent crime.

"Sigyn?" 

"Hmm?" The maiden hummed contentedly in question. The muscle on which her head rested grew tense as stone, before Loki retracted his arm sharply from beneath her. An iron grip engulfed her wrist as he hoisted her from their seats at the table.

"Come." The command was curt. "We are heading to my chambers."

"W-what-" her confusion fell on deaf ears, and she stumbled behind him on their way out of the bustling room. Quickly, the drunken chatter of the guests faded into distant murmurs as Loki pulled her into the darkness of the palace hallways. "Loki, what are you doing? Why are we going to your room? Why are you-"

 _"Must you speak to fill every silence?!"_  

Sigyn jerked in response to his sudden change of demeanour, in fear and an instant of hurt. His eyes were burning with irritation, chest heaving after his outburst, soft dark hairs draped unkempt across his face. She had never seen him like this, nor believed the words of many palace staff of what the man she loved was truly capable of until the moment his fingers dug into her wrist so tight that all feeling was lost from her hand.

"L-Loki..." Burning tears threatened to spill from her eyes; her lip quivered uncontrollably. "You're hurting me...!"

The dark-haired prince dove his fingers through her tresses and pulled her against his torso in a violently hold. A small whimper fell from Sigyn's lips. "Is this not what you always wanted?!" he snarled, watching her turn from him as many had done before. "For me to take you as mine and... **_fuck_** you until you can't even remember your own name?"

"Loki, please..."

"We don't even need to reach my chambers if you are truly desperate." He dragged a cold finger down her wet cheek. "I could have you here if you like, slam you against the wall and take from you what you have cherished since birth."

"Loki!" The prince had expected to see terror in her eyes and in her frown but instead, all traces of fear were gone, tear stains painting the face of a new woman, completely foreign to him. In her eyes was a gleam of anticipation, lips curled in a ghost of a smile as her chest heaved visibly beneath the shadows cast from dim light. Ever so slowly, she laid a white-winged hand atop his and guided his finger to graze the skin of her collarbone, finally coming to rest on the curve of her breast. Loki froze against her, incredulous and... excited by her boldness.

"Sigyn...?" He quirked a confused brow as his hand unwittingly cupped her soft flesh. 

A little sigh left her lips as she leaned into him and fisted the fabric of his shirt for support. "Do you see what you do to me, My Lord?" Loki brushed his fingers along the silk of her slender waist. All of her felt smooth beneath his touch, like a thin sheen of glass on every curve and dip of his wanton maiden. The prince had never expected this naive little girl to submit so aggressively to her inner desires, but he could not find the will to complain. The quick breaths that filled his ears as he molded and manipulated this woman beneath his fingertips ignited a growing tension in his core. Sigyn was  _his._ She was his... not Thor's, not his father's, and sharing her would never be required of him. Her mind and body belonged to him, placing him in power, fueling his lust for dominance. Eyes hard, they never left hers as her body arched and yielded with every flick of his skilled tongue, every brush of his palm until the unbearable tightness in his groin made his need rise up into his head. Crimson flushed across his alabaster cheek, to his chest and the inside of his drenched palms. The whole of him simmered with feral hunger.

 "I love you, Loki..." The word were barely audible, having been muffled as she murmured into the crook of his neck in the haze of her pleasure.

Suddenly, her body swept over with cold. So lost in blissful heat was Sigyn that it took her a moment to pry her eyelids apart and see that the dark prince had stepped back. Quivering candles cast shadows upon the broad of his back, dancing across the fitting leather. Sigyn could almost hear the tension of skin upon his knuckles as he clenched and unclenched his fists in aggravation. 

Feebly, she called out to him. 

"Is it true?" The man turned his head so as to acknowledge her presence at last. A beam of light fell across his cheek, painting the surface in a soft amber sheen. His voice hardened, "do you truly love me?"

"Yes!" cried Sigyn as she fell at his feet, "I love you!"

Loki whipped round and looked down at her. Eyes of glass gazed back at him in the dim light, lips parted with each heavy exhale. The sight of her chest heaving so deeply set his beastly desires aflame, free to unleash upon the fair maiden on her knees.

"Look at you..." he slipped his fingers amidst her dark locks and tugged. A cry of pleasure left her open mouth, reduced to little whimpers as he trailed his cold digits over her delicate, pale throat. All that ran through his mind was that she felt impossibly smooth, even more so as he drew the pad of his thumb across her sinuous lips. "So restless, so eager to submit. Tell me, my sweet victory... are you truly prepared?"

"Yes! Yes, My Prince!" Sigyn cried, her fingertips resting on the waist of his leather breeches; a barrier that grew increasingly tight upon the ache in his groin. "Take me this instant!"

Eyes fluttering to a close, he allowed her to remove that which constricted his throbbing need with her quaking hands. Nothing could have prepared him for the sheer heat, the wetness of her mouth that engulfed him and he hissed through his teeth, curses spewing beneath his breath in a strangled growl. Tears brimmed at Sigyn's eyes as the pull on her dark tresses burned her scalp but still, she persevered through her pain, flushed with happiness that her actions brought the prince such intense pleasure.

"Such skill... for a girl... who has never... been claimed..." he muttered through ragged breaths in revelation. Suddenly the searing heat was gone, replaced immediately by the cool drift that swept throughout the palace halls. He shuddered from the lack of contact, feeling so incredibly exposed to the caresses of the subtle wind. Eyelids fluttered apart, he kept his gaze on the maiden who had ceased her ministrations and was now looking up at him. Incredible pools of sapphire filled to the brim with adoration seeped into Loki's soul and knocked at his beating heart. They were loving; he drank the warmth that poured into him through her affectionate gaze.

"But I am pure, My Prince," her tone was soft and true, "no man has ever touched me the way you have done. Since the moment I first saw you, I..." she let out a little laugh and shook her head, "this must sound so silly to you, but I felt myself fill with the strongest love I had ever felt for anything or anyone in my life, and each night after that I've dreamt of what you could do to me... how I could submit to you and please you the way you send my heart aflutter." She caught her lip between her teeth in a look of such unbelievable innocence. "I've always been a passionate woman. I can't control my thoughts, or conceal my feelings for you... oh!"

Loki flipped her over, catching Sigyn by surprise as he buried his face into the back of her neck. There was something wrong with this - a sense of immorality nagged at the back of his mind like a starved rat in the slums while the sweet scent of forbidden fruit drowned and intoxicated him. Even the smell of her was wonderful and, to his dismay, this only served to fuel his raging lust. Without warning, the material of her bodice tore in a swift movement. His hands were on the smooth plains of her back in a flash of crazed passion, exploring the alabaster. Youth, beauty... her skin was rich soil beneath his palms, feeding his carnal need for release. 

The dress was pushed from her shoulders in seconds. Sigyn wormed out of it herself, impatience evident on her reddening features as the silk dropped at her ankles in a surrounding pool of lush green material. Loki did not even stop to admire the slender curve of her hip, nor the way her mouth parted in desire for none but him alone. In his head existed nothing but the red, searing hunger of a man driven to the brink with feral ardor. Her hands moved to remove her undergarments but he pushed her against the floor; flushed bodies collided with icy stone but were given no time to recover as the dark prince traveled beneath her underskirt with a rough hand in search of the source of the ferocious heat radiating from her core. 

 _Obscene._ It was damnably obscene - the music that escaped her lips when his fingers ghosted over the fabric which confined her, the wanton cry of submission that never ceased to shake his being with fierce arousal during all those years of talking women into his bed. 

"My little pet..." he cooed, gently pushing the material to the side. Sigyn moaned as a slight breeze ghosted beneath her shredded skirts. Suddenly everything slowed around her... the air, the noise, her shallow breaths of anticipation and his hand, which came closer and closer to that which was most precious to her. Closing the distance, he parted her at an agonizing pace and felt the slick wetness of her need coat his fingertips. "All ready for me. Coveting your _King_." At first came a shudder of delight, then Sigyn's features contorted violently; a silent scream caught in her throat as Loki began to stroke and toy with her wanton state. She was too far gone. Already impure, no longer the sweet maiden who knew nothing of the world or the people who lived in it, once protected by the sweet embrace of innocence. 

A small whimper pierced the draughty air, and Loki's face split in a carnal grin in response. His own desire pulsated with his racing heart and the rush of blood through his veins like a thirst just on the verge of being quenched - a gripping hunger about to be sated. 

" _Please,_ Loki-"

" _Quiet,_ " the prince growled lowly in command. Sigyn yelped in surprise when forced onto her stomach. Her chin throbbed with pain from the impact and her mind spun whilst Loki held her firm against the floor by her forearms. Then the starved prince knelt between her legs. Spasms of numbness spread across her splayed limbs as he pinned her down, pressed her left cheek to icy marble. Dark tendrils cascaded before her vision, obstructing her view of him. Loki could not see her face either, and instead leaned against the crevice of her parted thighs. Once again he teased and taunted her, shifting his hips wickedly over the cleft of her searing flesh. 

Sigyn tensed; pale thighs clenched and quivered, her desire so intense it coiled in her stomach where it would remain torturous until fulfilled. It possessed her, making her a mess of needy gasps and salacious demands: "Take me now Loki, my love, victor of my heart! Be the first to claim me with your mark, let them hear my cries-"

"I said, **quiet.** " A rough hand clamped down on her mouth and she tensed, jaw rigid as he positioned himself at her entrance and sank into the exquisite heat, sheathing himself deep in the delicious, gripping constriction of her quaking flesh. Pain tore through Sigyn's body and she cried out, nails digging into the strained muscle of Loki's forearm for support. It was done. Her eyelids fell shut as her innocence trickled down her leg and bled through the material of her undergarments. With a grunt of warning, Loki moved again and hissed through his teeth at the fire that engulfed his senses as he buried himself within his betrothed. Hot tears formed in her eyes at the searing pain of his movements, which grew increasingly feverish with each rise and fall of erratic breaths and groans that indicated his closeness to the verge of release. "You are ridiculous," he sneered, "and naught but a filthy harlot under the clever guise of a shy maiden." The prince fell against her back, each vibration of his pounding heart passing from his chest into her small frame as they rutted like animals under the blanket of night. 

Suddenly the walls seemed to close in on them, the sweltering heat almost suffocating in its intensity as they drew nearer and nearer still to oblivion. As the coil in her stomach tightened ferociously in pleasure, Sigyn moaned of her love for him so truthfully, ardently as if she were soon to be separated from Loki, never to see him again. "I love you, Loki! Please, _ohh yes_...! Take me! Violate me!"

But Loki heard none of her cries, for all that flooded his senses was the deafening ring of white noise as his eyes fluttered closed. 

 

_Beautiful bodies entwined, pale limbs thrashing in rhythmic passion, the gentle brush of grass beneath slick skin as two lovers consummated their attraction._

 

_Evoking feelings buried in the deepest depths of his heart; some that he was never aware he possessed when she had pressed her lips to his, and his heart to hers._

 

_The curve and dip of her chin, the hollow of her throat tasting of salt and rosy perfume, whetting his sweet cravings for her body and soul._

 

"Say you love me, Loki..."

 

_Then the **thud, thud, thud** of their bodies upon the earth as he took and claimed her with all his strength. Her arms closed around him, holding him to her heart for dear life as they stumbled upon the brink of release. _

 

"Please," Sigyn's voice rang distant amidst the haze of his thoughts, "tell me you love me, as I love you!"

 

_Lips captured between his, teeth grazing the soft rosebud as she whimpered into his mouth, hungrily, urgently. Passionate flushing through their bodies when they tensed, muscles strained as they pushed through the rippling bliss, their apex, and fell... deep, deep into the dangerous pit of all-consuming emotion as one._

" _I love you..._ " he whispered, his voice cracking as his climax possessed his body with a powerful jolt. Sigyn smiled against the floor, the words having found her ears while he collapsed atop her small frame, spent and panting heavily. 

Once his eyes shot open and the stars faded from view, Loki wasted no time in removing himself from her and smoothing down the creases in his garments, dressing quickly until he looked no different than he had looked at the start of the day, save for the bead of perspiration on his brow at the lingering scent of passion on his person. 

"Get dressed." Sigyn flinched as the remains of her gown landed at her side, "I don't need you drawing more attention to us if you're seen like this."

After slipping into the damaged gown, she took his outstretched hand and let him guide her to her chambers for a change of attire, finding that the smile etched on her features would not dissipate as the weight of his whispered words echoed in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is at last, some mature content for a mature story. Sorry to the reader who commented about not wanting to see anything between Loki and Sigyn XD but that was the point, you know? To see how all this affects everyone's sexual endeavors. 
> 
> Things are progressing, and they're progressing fast. 
> 
> A couple years from now I'll probs look back and be slapped with a horrid wave of cringe when revisiting my first real smut scene. In order to improve it, I'd appreciate your comments on whether you liked it or not :D and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!


	14. An Atrocious Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The forbidden lovers meet again at last, sending them both back to square one of overcoming the consequences of the long-ago affair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you aren't familiar with the coming new character Theoric, he is a soldier from the comics that Sigyn was supposed to marry before he got killed in battle because Loki manipulated the situation so that he could have her for himself. But the canon is so jumbled up in this fanfic that I figured, 'why not?' since Sigyn's character is the only important one still lacking some dimension.  
> You'll find I am pretty fond of attractive characters. Poor Theoric is not really going to be a rival unless you guys want him to be(?) but picture him as your typical hot af knight.

"Stop that."

"Hmm?" Heat rushed to her cheeks when Sigyn became aware of her own heavy breathing. It had rung so loud, Loki had mistaken her lengthy exhales for the howl of the evening wind and not merely the result of a young maiden's bubbling anxiety. "I'm sorry!"

The muscle behind his eyes grew numb from the excessive rolling of them; his features stiffened, immensely irritated as the girl flushed crimson with embarrassment.

In truth, the prince was thankful that their absence went seemingly unnoticed by the lot of merry patrons who, in the time he'd escaped the bustling scene, had gotten more inebriated than they had officially appeared. Save for a few occasions that merited indulgence in drink, Loki never failed to retain some level of clear-headedness and drank only for the purpose of frugality. 

Those who succumbed to the comfort of liquor bared themselves to the world - stumbling, giggling, screaming, spilling dire secrets, rendering themselves brainless. Allowing those who witnessed their drunken glee to brandish them as fools for no purpose other than to be free of all burdens for a mindless moment. The prospect alone was ridiculous to him; after all, he could not recall anyone desiring a fool. 

But Loki was not a fool, yet the world withheld from him any compassion or praise for his knowledge or skills in the art of magic. Talents he himself had honed and practiced all his life with but one goal in mind - to earn the Allfather's approval. To make Odin proud of his second son, and most of all, earn his place as his brother's equal. How could it be that despite all that he'd worked for, they all still favored Thor? Why was it that the Thunderer, with his moments of drunken stupor and brawn without brains, received love and admiration by the swarm without ever having to work for the exaltation bestowed on him from his father and the people of Asgard?

Their surroundings burst to life as they reentered the dining hall; once again subjected to the copper light which served as ample illumination. Tiny golden flames quivered atop candelabras adorning the walls. They had stolen back to their seats and avoided the notice of the crowd just as a round, booming voice shattered the balance of moderate chatter. "Don't think we didn't notice you two slinking away into the dark, My Prince!" Sigyn's heart jerked against her rib cage, her hand tightening around the armrest. 

The familiar rumble of Thor's laughter filled the room with its warm quality, and both his brother and his reserved betrothed let out an exhale of relief. "You have the eyes of a hawk, Lord Theoric."

Loki turned to Sigyn, having noticed the strained veins of her neck, undoubtedly caused by the abrupt tension of her body. A small wheeze of apprehension came as Loki glanced from the dashing young lord back to his intended, who had her head facing away from him, afraid of being seen. "What-" his brow climbed higher as a glistening bead of perspiration formed at her temple. "How do you know that man, Sigyn?"

"He's a soldier." Sigyn replied curtly, toying with the material of her gown in her lap. "Assigned to the Crimson Hawks, and one of the four main protectors of the Allfather."

"When I ask a question, I expect to gain _new_ knowledge." Sigyn lowered her head before the exasperated prince. He spoke again, careful to enunciate each word. "How are you acquainted with Lord Theoric?"

Silence. Only fretful swallowing served as her answer, giving Loki more reason to continue casting a suspicious eye at the handsome warrior engaged in conversation with Thor. He had a defined jaw and a youthful appearance; a blonde wisp of hair fell out from beneath his helmet as the soldier threw his head back with a hearty chuckle. Having summoned her courage at last, Sigyn confessed: "I've known him since we were children. As we grew into adolescence, Theoric... attempted to court me, is all."

"Why do you hide from him?" There was an air of suspicion present in his voice. Grimacing, she snuck a quick glance at the noble warrior in question.

"I believe he is still in love with me. _Madly_ , at that."

"What makes you think so?" As Theoric seemingly turned in their direction, she buried her face into Loki's shoulder without warning. His eyes grew wide, startled by her strange antics. "By the Norns, woman-"

"When I told him we were to be married Theoric vowed to run away with me when 'the time was right'", Sigyn swallowed harder under the piercing gaze of her betrothed, who looked on with intrigue. Her cheeks flared crimson, eyes screwing shut in embarrassment; "he also said he'd make s-sweet love to me, and that he wanted us to produce a dozen beautiful green-eyed children together, and watch them frolic by the seaside..."

_"Brother!"_

"Thor!" The crown prince approached them with an open heart, bringing his wife and the soldier that made the look in Sigyn's eyes grow furtive. Loki had never been more grateful for his brother's rumbling laughter, a sound that ripped through the air with its sheer might. Dear god, if he were to be subjected to any more of Sigyn's rambling... 

"Prince Loki," Theoric lowered his head politely. Masking his astonishment at the neutrality of the soldier's tone, Loki found it hard to believe he truly raved for her as Sigyn claimed. 

With a convincing smile, Loki returned the greeting. But as soon as Theoric's gaze fell on the young maiden beside him, Loki, paralyzed in dread, recognized the look in his eye. He _knew_ that glance. The face of a man so mad with tenderness, he could be made weak by the mere sight of his beloved; the keeper of his heart. Disgust fouled his thoughts as Loki found himself contemplating the possibility of him becoming the product of crazed obsession that was Theoric. 

It was unlikely. But he could not deny what he saw, and that was his own heart, reflected in the pained expression the warrior bore. 

"Lady Sigyn." Theoric's voice dropped to a hushed tone, almost as if pleading for her to look up from her clenched fists in her lap. Sigyn refused and instead leaned into the crook of Loki's arm, mumbling ' _help me'_ into his tunic with such fear, the prince reluctantly obliged her. Groaning inwardly, he draped his arm round her shoulder and drew Sigyn close where the mass of her dark curls found his mouth. A pleasant fragrance invaded his senses as he kissed her, much to the dismay and sorrow of the handsome soldier standing watch. 

He had almost forgotten she was there. His love, on the arm of that ignorant oaf, her eyes wide and lips compressed tautly in disapproval that only Loki could detect. Something urged him to pull away, a dark feeling akin to shame screaming for him to stop. But then he remembered who he was, and what he was to them all.

_I am Loki Laufeyson._

_Sigyn is my intended._

There was no guilt inside him when his lips lingered upon Sigyn's crown. There was no shame in sharing affection with the one he was to call his wife, the maiden he had lain with. This was no sin, nor should he feel in the wrong watching the princess's jaw twitch in discomfort. 

Sigyn smiled into Loki's chest, relishing in the warmth of his hold.

"You must excuse my betrothed, Lord Theoric." Loki kept his explanation courteous. "She has had one too many sips of wine."

Theoric responded after a disheartened pause, "of course."

"Gentlemen, excuse me for a moment." All focus turned to the princess, who held a hand to her forehead in persuasive nausea. Thor caught her as she stumbled backwards, and Loki suppressed a scoff at her purposeful misstep. "Forgive me for my intolerance to a cheerful crowd, but I do feel in need of some quiet."

"I shall accompany you."

"Thank you my love, but I require a little peace," Thor's brows furrowed, causing hers to echo the notion at his inability to understand her meaning. Increasing the clarity of her words, she repeated: "I want to be alone, Thor."

"Ah." The Thunderer grinned sheepishly. "Then by all means. But do not stray too far-"

"You know I'd die before I could possibly disobey you." He took her hand in his, secretly taking pleasure in how soft it felt in his gentle grasp. That playful smirk remained as she nodded farewell to the rest of them and slipped away, the warmth disappearing with her touch.

"What a fine queen we shall soon have!" proclaimed a recovering Theoric. 

"Aye." Thor agreed, staring after his wife as she shifted through the amass of guests. "All that remains is for us to surveil her health. I confess my fear of leaving her alone but she can be quite insistent."

He eased into the supportive hand on his shoulder. "Well, for what it's worth, I wish you both the best of luck..."

"You have my thanks, Theoric."

The soldier's eye shone with a funny gleam. "In producing an heir. Maybe more-"

"You are too much, my friend!"

"My Prince, it is no secret that you have attempted to do so multiple times."

"You dare shame the son of Odin?" Thor drew his fists before him in a playful gesture, both men erupting in raucous laughter. Their banter provided ample time for Loki to remove himself from the room and slip from sight, with naught but a single goal on his mind. 

"Where are you going?" asked Sigyn, her lips curled into an innocent pout. She was met with no reply, for the enigmatic frame of the man she loved had already disappeared into the dark, taking with him renewed rage.

 

I knew he would follow the moment I excused myself from Thor and the others. As I made my way to the door, dread had already wrapped its icy talons around me amidst everything I felt in that room. I'd felt their eyes burning into the back of my head as I walked away; I swear I'd heard his footsteps echo each of mine through the din of people and their talk, growing ever closer, more daunting with time. This fear, or rather -  _uncontrollable nerve_ seemed to gnaw at my innards, like a ghastly insect eating furiously at a rotting fruit, slowly destroying it from within. Leaving the dining hall had never been a more arduous process, so much so that I had no choice but to depart from the place where I was exposed to Loki - his beauty, and the way he held the little wench overwhelmed me like never before. Not like the time when he'd placed a kiss on her forehead upon her arrival, or smiled so softly towards her at the dance. 

But his face in her hair, breathing in like he could not get enough of her... it had looked so pure, so genuine. He had stayed like that, lips to the line where ivory met tresses of ebony, pulling her flush against him as Thor so often did with me. 

 _Perhaps he loves her._ My thoughts of late were malevolent with a mind of their own.  _She is fair, strong, and young. And pure._

A vicious cold spread throughout my body as his breath, white-hot and impossibly close, ghosted the hairs on my neck. There had been no sound of warning, but I knew without the slightest doubt that Loki had come for me.

"What do you want?" the words tore from me in a cracked whisper, and all of a sudden I became aware of my parched throat. 

"You know better than anyone what I _want_." I trembled, possessed by the vibrations passing through me from his voice. I had never forgotten the power he had over me, or what I could be reduced to under the influence of nothing but his clever tongue alone. Sometimes I found myself yearning to submit to the delicious fervor of his dominance once again, but my lust was the very thing that had nearly driven me to inescapable ruin since the beginning, and I could not afford to make that same mistake.

"I'm afraid I don't, Prince Loki." A slight waver weakened my tone. "Step away from me, please."

"How long do you plan on playing this atrocious game?" I stepped forth and spun to face him, met with the dark outline of his seething stature. "For how long will you continue to pretend as though you did not give yourself to me, and I you, that long ago night?"

Slowly, he advanced, daring me to stand my ground. The heat of his rage grew ever closer with each infernal step; I would be lying through my teeth if I claimed not to feel the most harrowing fear travel down my spine. "I am not afraid of you."

"Will you not acknowledge the damage that has been done?" Loki's voice shook with emotion, and out of nothing formed searing tears of my own. "Are you so cruel as to promise me your heart, chain me to you with your vows, only to break them again and again as you fuck Thor like you fucked me?!"

"Do not talk to me of broken promises, you bastard!" I was beyond enraged, too deep in consuming anger to care what barbs fell from my mouth as long as they were as vile as could be. For a brief moment he stopped, startled by my sudden fury. But how could he say these things to me and expect patience? "You held your new whore like you loved her and now that you have truly upset me, you will not grant me rest?!" 

"You haven't the **slightest** idea how many nights of rest you have robbed from me!" Each word he spat dripped with malice, and as he stepped into the candlelight it revealed a near murderous glint in his eye, a face distorted in despair. He looked almost... _ugly_. "You are a heartless whore, a merciless manipulator of emotion!"

"How dare you, you monster, you venomous snake! I would not be in this state had you not seduced me for your own sickening amusement. Don't you understand, I was a girl... forced into marriage with a man I did not love, given the title of future queen when I wanted none of it! Don't you see? You stole what was left of my happiness, and for that, I will  _never_ forgive you. If it weren't for you, I-" 

_I would not have had to suffer the loss of our child._

No one could have explained to me just how powerful anger could be. It overwhelmed me to the point where I could no longer form proper sentences as all my focus was on each part of his face I wanted to maim, soaked in my own sweat while my body tried to rid itself of the boiling in my blood. As my rage dissipated into silence, I felt, for the very first time, truly broken. A lone tear trailed down Loki's cheek and he spoke, exhausted and afraid, "do you really hate me, my love?"

"No." I answered almost immediately, cursing the tears brimming once more in my tired eyes. " _Never._ "

It came from him in a string of strangled words. My god, I had been terrified of the impact this would have on me, and I'd been right to feel this way.

"I laid with Sigyn tonight." 

The floor seemed unbalanced beneath my feet, as though my body was splitting apart into agonized shards. I almost thought my soul was crumbling inside of me until I realized it was merely my heart irrevocably breaking, despite all the time it had had to mend itself. I wanted to tell him it was alright, for it was. I wanted him to know there was no shame in laying with his betrothed, for there was not. After all, I had been with Thor countless times since I was made Princess of Asgard. I had committed no sin, for he was my husband. There should not have been any guilt between us at all, for this was how we were supposed to heal after defying sacred laws on the night of my wedding. I ached to tell him that what he'd done was right, for this was what they expected of us. 

Instead I said nothing, heading towards my chambers with a heavy heart. And this time, he let me go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAAAAAAAAAHHH D': the feels
> 
> Leave comments and kudos!! What do YOU think might happen next?


	15. If He Be Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The council gathers to organize a tournament to increase the public's confidence in their future monarch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, it's been a hectic few months but now it's the holidays and I can finally write!!!  
> Here's a shorter chapter just to ease me back into fanfiction lol sorry
> 
> Now let's have a chapter all about our favorite thunder god, thor hemsworth

All those deemed most important in the Aesir realm gathered at a rounded oak tabled that spanned an incredible length across the plain and spacious council hall. These were the lords and ladies who had true influence over Asgard's politics, from managing the population and organizing costly events to distributing new members of the palace staff at their posts. 

In comparison to the rest of the royal abode the room was decoratively lackluster, boasting only billowing patterns in rich mahogany and cream-colored drapes. Having grown tired of blaring reds, the mitigated tones controlled my nerves as I listened intently to the inquisitive note of the chancellor's appeal. 

"Perhaps the safest option would be to keep Jane Foster in our vicinity. Contain the Aether and monitor the mortal's condition-"

"You forget, Chancellor," spat the captain of the guard, "that by harboring the Aether on Asgard, we would be exposed to the threat at hand if the enemy knows we have chosen to keep it in possession."

This response hit the council bluntly, flooding the hall with murmurs of debate. I remained silent for the rest of the conversation and watched awkwardly as it grew with rising fervor. Soon the matter was settled; the council moved on to sort out another issue with renewed energy, each member eager to provide input. The sweat upon each burdened brow hinted at affairs of their own, but with the coronation growing ever near, no other thought reigned our minds. The topic of our discussion shifted from the Midgardian to the matter of Alfheim and the Elvenqueen's questionable health, with brief comments on our progress in supplying the city with food, until the subject we all anticipated appeared amidst the conversation. 

"As we had discussed in one of our earlier meetings, may those who have readied propositions please present them before the court?"

Lord Kvasir was the first to speak. His idea to let the people spectate Thor devouring a broiled hog whole and a dozen of Idunn's apples was amusing at best, but did not suit the type of event we were wishing to hold. Though his substantial eating would no doubt impress the public, I don't suppose it would have done much good to better familiarize the people of Asgard with their soon-to-be monarchs. I laughed inwardly at Thor's obvious peaked interest but was indifferent myself, and politely awaited the next proposal.

The next few ideas lacked creativity and failed to convince me, until a rotund woman (with whom I had never been acquainted) fanned herself enthusiastically in defense to the heat streaming through the glass as she produced a small metallic sphere and placed it excitedly on the table. I, along with the rest of the council members, craned my neck in pursuit of a better glimpse at the device, which was engraved with curious geometric markings.

Elders on my realm had told me of Asgard's impressive technological advances, but no story could have prepared me for the realism or dimension of the hologram that appeared above the sphere, flickering before it stilled into the flawless likeness of an arena - one I'd seen before when glancing down at the citadel from my quarters. The image hovered above the table, rotating steadily to give everyone a perspective of each and every inch of the projection. 

With pure amazement, my fingers reached for the mirage expecting the course touch of stone, only to be met with the empty air and a few amused chuckles from the other courtiers. Thor laughed and I drew my hand into my lap in embarrassment. 

We were brought back to the matter at hand by the lady who cleared her throat and placed her fan of horse hairs upon the table. She rose from her seat, now at level with the floating depiction of the arena which contained the image of the prince and a scaly beast engrossed in battle, dueling for eternity at the heart of the stadium. Satisfied with the interest she had garnered, the woman beamed, proclaiming: "I propose a tournament!"

"A 'tournament', Lady Octavia?" the Allfather inquired. 

"Yes, My King, a  _tournament_." The hologram enlarged so that Thor and his beastly foe were in focus, now dueling in full animation. "A grand event held in the very core of the city to showcase the combative talents of our beloved heir." Octavia paused, taking in the reactions of the council before she continued, pleased. "Soldiers and townsfolk alike would be welcome to partake in the great contest, with none but Prince Thor emerging as the victor in the end. But of course, we must guarantee Prince Thor's safety at all times, should such a tournament commence; which is why the challenge will be but a mirage - the creatures shall be but illusions cast by Her Majesty the Queen, to maintain utmost realism in each battle. As a result of the Allmother's involvement, the 'beasts' shall be bested immediately and with ease by our Prince and the citizens of Asgard will fall to their knees in respect of Odin's son."

The chancellor's worn features tightened in dislike. "A clever scheme, Lady Octavia, but a scheme no less."

"I agree." Thor shot up from his chair, startling me and surprising those seated close to him. The end of the table averted their gaze toward Thor as a collective, the attentiveness in their eyes a symbol of their unwavering respect for the golden-haired prince. I could not help but yearn for a day to come when the same people would look towards me with that same admiration and loyalty. Bearing an unamused smile, Thor continued, "I do not wish to deceive the people who live honest lives with cheap tricks. Mother, knowing that I am fully capable of defeating false beasts with my  _combative talents,_ need not lower those of my rivals in order for me to best them with ease. 'Tis a great shame that you have never seen me train with Mjolnir, Lady Octavia."

"My Prince, I never meant-"

"Surely the Lady never intended to insult Your Royal Highness," Chancellor Iwaldi spoke in the terrified old woman's defense with the bravery and kindness I'd seen replicated in his daughter, who had unmistakably inherited her lively sapphire orbs from the nobleman himself. A twang of hatred twisted my innards at the thought of young Sigyn. 

I was brought back to the present by Thor's gentle hand on mine, slowly coming to the realization that I'd been squeezing the armrest with an iron grip. I let out a shuddering sigh; the same occurrence had happened on many occasions, where spontaneous rage would simmer in my breast for no reason, always on the verge of coming to a violent boil. This was not the time nor place to break out in jealous fury, as much as it would give me pleasure. 

Iwaldi looked toward me with a hopeful smile. "Perhaps Your Highness could grace us with further thought on the subject? The council was thoroughly inspired by your ideas to appoint common seamstresses to the palace. Truly a move most innovative, My Lady."

"I am flattered, Chancellor, but the act could not have been made possible without the undying efforts of the council and palace staff." Heads inclined with respect at my words and I relaxed, reassured I had chosen the right words. I waited for my breath to settle in my chest before beginning carefully: "In regards to the tournament, I quite enjoy the notion and find it a most creative means of demonstrating Thor's skill on the battlefield. After all, what could better secure a realm's confidence in their future king than the certainty that he is able to protect it?"

"Thank you, Your Highness." Lady Octavia shone with satisfaction. My lips parted to speak hesitantly, as I knew my coming remarks could upset one if not a few members. 

"Which is why the use of Mjolnir in the competition should be avoided at all costs."

 _"Nonsense!"_ I flinched as Odin stood abruptly, anger evident in his exposed eye. The unforeseen transition between a composed ruler to a seething old man frightened me, sent my blood racing in terror. Frigga too appeared startled, though upset herself when she scolded his name in disbelief. 

"Your Majesty, I beg of you! Punish me if it is your wish, but I believe the use of Mjolnir in combat to be an unfair advantage over the rest of the competitors. No one but my husband possesses the power of Thor, so how would it be an honest fight?" I gasped for breath, hoping that if I spoke quickly I would not be interrupted. Thor held my hand and I met his panicked gaze, "forgive me, my love, that I fight for your inconvenience." Mustering all my strength, I turned to face the king. "But your son is the greatest warrior in all of Asgard, is he not? Some illusory foes would not stand a chance against Thor, even in swordplay!" 

Odin's rage only heightened after my speech, shown by beads of perspiration forming at his brow. "You, his wife, would endanger the crown prince? Strip him of protection, gamble his life to impress the commoners? Have you no concern for his safety, no _love_ for your husband?!"

At this point I could no longer breathe. My eyes screwed shut, lips parched, throat swole as the King lashed out at me in his rage. My hands fumbled for Thor's shirt and to my relief I was pulled into his embrace. I could only brace myself in his arms and let their voices ring deafeningly in my ears. I craved silence, an escape from the noise that suffocated me. The air was thick; I felt a curious stir in my chest but could not concentrate on anything but the defensive bellows of my husband's retort. 

His words were loud, shredding my mind, scrambling my senses and I could only understand broken segments of speech.

" _Trust... confident in my skills... easy victory... train with the Warriors... sword..._ " Each phrase emerged in between painful throbs, the onsets of a headache as unbearable as nails digging into my skull. 

Maybe the king and his son had not been engaged in a heated argument at all but I had no way of knowing, for even the slightest raised voice was enough to induce a sharp pain in my mind. The ringing in my ears was starting to fade, filling my heart with happiness as my hearing cleared. A bead of sweat fell from my chin and I caught it, my eyes damp as they slowly opened to focus on the droplet in my palm. 

I tried to concentrate on the flecks of light within it before it disappeared into the many cracks between my fingers. Then, still pressed against Thor's rippling chest, I looked up. 

Having suspected that I was going mad for a long time, I still could not be sure whether my frenzied imagination had conjured the strange stare of normally-candid Queen Frigga, or that she truly held some peculiar distaste for me which looked so untoward on her face of such a warm, rosy hue. A shudder trailed down my spine at the ice in her gaze and taut lips. 

My eyes escaped to the thick veins on Thor's neck, which were strained in anger while his mouth produced sounds I lacked the energy to comprehend. Even from this angle the prince was handsome, like his Queen mother. 

I looked back at her and noticed with dread that it was gone. No strange look, no unsettling scrutiny, nothing. 

_Not a trace..._

Odin dismissed the council with a begrudged scowl; his subjects scurried away from the scene, understandably frightened by the Allfather's unwarranted outburst. Thor helped me to my feet and out of the room. Only when we had established a sizable distance from the king and his courtiers did the knot in my stomach disappear. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with gratitude for Thor who had a tender hand to my face, holding me close, the ever-present look of concern plastered across his affectionate features. 

I hated it. 

"Just as you begin to recover, my father upsets you..." The prince's tone wavered in anger. I laced my fingers with his and broke the clenched fist. He felt warm as ever. "The old man should have known better! How dare he-"

" _Thor._.."

"I love you."

The words came quickly, the declaration short. Yet they burned into my heart all the same - a most terrible feeling, worse than the creeping talons of near death, tasting more bitter than gnawing jealousy. 

"Thor?" I could only stare through my tears as he pressed his lips firmly to mine. Rough hairs on his jaw tickled my chin but no giggle escaped my lips, as though all sounds were lodged in my throat and I could not speak. 

Thor rested his forehead against mine. The warmth of his breath fell on my face and I tensed. " _I love you,_ my beautiful heart. On the day I took you as my wife, I had sworn to myself to treat you with respect but never foresaw my own fall. I should have known from the moment I gave you that rose that my heart, too, would in time belong to you."

His powerful arms swept me into a fierce embrace. I whispered his name again, too lost, drowning too deep in undeserved adoration, wishing with every fiber of my being that he did not feel this way for me, the one who had betrayed his love.

But I loved those three words he had uttered, and it disgusted me like nothing else. 

"Which is why it pains me to leave you in the morning."

"What?" I broke from the embrace in disbelief and dread.

Thor exhaled painfully. It hurt me to see the exhaustion around his eyes from upholding his duties as heir, along with accompanying me every time of day. "Father won't let me fight without Mjolnir unless I train with Sif and the Warriors each day until the tournament."

The prospect of weeks without Thor by my side left me trembling once it struck me that there was simply no way I could live alone in my condition. I no longer felt safe in these halls - just stalked, hounded by the many predators I had roused and provoked. 

And _Sif -_ oh, the poison with which she could fill his head now that they were to train extensively together...

Panic turned to rage without rhyme or reason. "You would leave me alone in my state?!"

"As soon as my sessions end I shall visit you, I will stay through the night if you so wish-"

"No." I shook my head vigorously and the throbbing returned, seizing my mind. "No Thor, you are leaving me, just like-"

"I will come to you as soon as time will allow, I swear it! I swear by my love for you, I will come. I  _will_ come, my love."

"You said you loved me..."

"I  _do_! More than anything..." Thor kissed my quivering lip, stilling it between his. Caressing my shoulder, he pushed a strand of hair from my face, and looked deep into my eyes. Thor's eyes were such a brilliant blue, gleaming with emotion and willing me to see the truth in them. It had been a while since I had truly seen him so vulnerable, so bare for me as his eyes brimmed with honesty. "I would bend time if it were possible, my love."

"Thor..." I threw my arms around his broad frame and held on for my life. I couldn't be alone now. Not ever. And so I begged him, softly, so soft it would break his heart. "Please, don't leave me here... alone."

Only when he took me back into his arms did I hear my own sobs, or feel my body quake against his chest. We stood, locked in an embrace that felt like an ending. But Thor only promised relentlessly, again after again as I wept for myself and for him. 

" _Shhhhhh..._ I will visit, my love, I swear it. Without fail, I will come to you."

And I believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader is going crazy... I hope you guys liked this chapter with only chris odinson in it. 
> 
> Sorry guys but after much deliberation I've decided that there will be no sequel to Book of Thorns, so enjoy your last 8 chapters of despair.
> 
> also times are hard. No more updates until I get more comments so if you please >:)


	16. Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor begins his training and finds it increasingly difficult to uphold his promise, leaving you alone with the man who possesses the power to destroy you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished my GCSE mocks so I finally found some time to update the story. Hope the quality is consistent and that you guys haven't abandoned Book of Thorns!  
> I hope people are still reading because honestly I was only compelled back to writing this fic because of the continuous kudos and comments y'all are leaving me. Keep them coming please :)
> 
> Loki returns in this chapter! Hope you enjoy XD

Thor kept his promise. 

On the day I'd wept in his arms, the Prince of Asgard had told me he loved me. I remember the sheer desperation in his movements when he'd laid his hands on my face, fingers entwined in my hair so soiled by sweat and tears, any other would have been repulsed at first touch and yet he _loved_ me. 

Thor came that night, hurrying back with aching arms outstretched, cradling me in them like a babe until I succumbed to much-needed slumber. Without the warmth from his sun-kissed skin on mine, his Thunderer's embrace, I grew more restless and irritable by the day. Though Thor came to me as often as he could, he could not hide the exhaustion from his eyes, or the mild annoyance in his frown at my dependence on him. I'd cry in his arms, chastise him for leaving me alone before drifting off into a painful sleep after he'd place a kiss on my brow and leave the room. 

I struggled to eat the delicious meals the servants prepared, but knowing of their hard work I would always take a sip of wine or a bite of bread if only to express my appreciation. Before me, they would smile and greet me as 'Your Highness', only to scoff and indulge in rumors when they believed I wasn't looking. 

I am  _always_ looking. 

Late in the afternoon, the servants dressed me in a modest grey gown as per my request - I could no longer stand the bright reds and golds which unfortunately decorated my chamber. The golden sun beckoned me toward the corridors where I'd taken up a habit of strolling to clear my mind. Asgard's halls were often vast and empty, making them a perfect escape when I sought the comfort of silence.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," came a welcoming chirp. I turned and saw Laila, a young chambermaid, dusting the windows. I was quite fond of her, as she had taken a great effort in nursing me back to health over the past hard times. My eyes darted to the small bump of her abdomen - small, but noticeable nonetheless, and dreaded the bile rising hot in my throat. 

"You... you are with child?" I asked with a tone colder than intended. A faint blush crept onto Laila's cheeks. 

"Y-yes, My Lady."

"Is the head of staff aware of your condition?"

"No, My Lady."

"Unacceptable. You should be resting, not laboring over the same windows and drapes you dusted yesterday."

"I assure you, Your Highness, it is truly no bother-"

"As your mistress, I forbid you from performing your duties until your child has been delivered. You are relieved from your post."

The tint of Laila's cheeks deepened in embarrassment and slight panic. Perhaps I'd spoken too harshly, or colder than I'd intended. But I could not suppress the emotion that stirred in my stomach, the dull ache of a distant memory lodged deep in my breast upon discovering Laila's... situation. I knew immediately that I could not bear to have her present in these halls. I could no longer handle the sore sight of her bulging abdomen which served only to remind me of what I had lost. A horrid feeling of guilt washed over me, filling my veins with shame at what I was doing. _But does a princess not possess the right to dismiss her servants?_

"Please, Your Highness, this job is my only means of providing for my child-"

An almost agonizing affliction rose to my head in an instant, filling me with an unexplainable rage. Hot tears burned at my eyes, and Laila flinched at the ice in my glare. "Did you not hear what I said?!" I spat, no longer able to maintain a facade of composure. I wanted nothing more than for her to leave my sight, and for the pain coursing through me to subside.

The chambermaid whimpered, terrified. "Your Highness..."

" _ **Leave!** Take your child and exit the palace! Go home! Out of my sight!"_ I roared in a sudden burst of fury, the world around me spinning out of control. The emotion I felt was an unearthly torrent of anger, annoyance and grief... grief most of all. Numbness took over my body until I was paralyzed; trapped in the menacing confines of my own feelings. My knees hit the floor before I became aware of my own exhaustion. The sound of Laila scurrying away was drowned out by the heaviness of my breaths, so erratic I could barely hear the dull thud of my own heartbeat. 

"Out of my sight," croaked a voice which I almost did not recognize my own, my lips forming course and hollow words on their own accord. "Out of my sight,  _out of my sight..._ "

My legs crumbled beneath my weight; I could only stumble towards the window to break my fall. The cold glass kissed my fingertips as I gripped the window frame for support. My breathing refused to slow. My head throbbed, a glistening bead of sweat forming at my temple. From here, I was usually treated to a view of the royal gardens during my daily strolls. But now, desperate for a distraction, my eyes searched the distant floral displays for something to fix my attention on, something to calm my beating heart, but the beautiful hues of the season were now irritant to my eyes.

It was then that I spotted two figures seated on one of the benches on the side of the main garden pathway. Though partially hidden, I strained to make out the form of two people, facing each other, as though engaging in deep conversation. One; a maiden with dark tresses that cascaded down her shoulders, who's face I could not see as her back was turned toward me. The other, however...

_Loki._

His lean arms wrapped round her petite form, muscular and hungry-looking, his lips curled into the twinge of a smile. The maiden turned her head to the side to reveal the unmistakable features of a blushing Sigyn. The sunlight bathed her skin in an incandescent glow, illuminating the thin layers of her gown to frame the slender silhouette of her body. My breathing filled my head, the drum of my heartbeat invading every orifice, drowning out my own stifled cries of betrayal and disbelief. 

Loki placed a finger below her chin to lift her face to his. Although hidden from my view, I closed my eyes and could almost picture the tender, affectionate brush of his lips against hers. My heart sank into the pits of my stomach as a thundering headache overtook me. The sight was killing me yet I could tear my eyes from it; the need to see it for myself was too great. With each moment spent watching the man I loved hold another so close to his heart, I could feel the life drained from my little by little. Some might have thought it lewd or perverse that I continued to stare in disbelief, unable to process the revelation that my deepest fears had come true. 

Watching the scene unfold before me served to confirm my suspicions that Loki had finally fallen for his intended. Just as he was meant to. Just as it was meant to be - 'the dark, devilish Prince Loki and the beautiful, innocent Sigyn, _together at last!_ '

His heart was finally rid of me. Just as it should be. There could be no other explanation for the affection in his eyes as he held her close, obscured by the rose bushes like she was one of his  _secret lovers._

Loki pulled back from the kiss and pulled her into a gentle embrace, resting his head on her shoulder. His face, now completely visible to me, seemed relaxed and content.

Without a warning, his eyes snapped open. The wicked emeralds, filled with venom and some form of twisted glee glared unblinkingly at me. They gleamed under the blaring sun, catching me completely by surprise. My breath hitched in my throat and my limbs grew numb when his crooked lips formed a dreadful, ugly smile that was completely unbecoming of his hard features. It was as though he took some unholy pleasure in tormenting me, purposefully hurting me deeper ... _killing_ me. Naught but mere seconds may have passed, but to me it seemed like the most grueling eternity. 

Finally unable to hold his stare an longer, I turned away. I flung my back against the cold stone wall beside the window and allowed an agonized cry to escape my throat. The sounds that tore from my dry throat no longer sounded human to my own ears. The brilliant golds of Asgard's halls spun around me at high speed, kaleidoscopic, flitting across my vision in a dizzying blur. Then my legs succumbed to the floor, trapped beneath my own weight. 

Slipping into the darkness felt familiar and kind, and so for once, I willingly let it take me.

 

 

 

_Ivory skin, pale bodies entwined. Moving in time with each breath of the wind, each dewdrop upon the grass, each cry of ecstasy. Two people, brought together by the darkest of desires, the most carnal craving. Giving the world to each other. Connecting, deep and true. Sharing. Fulfilling. Moving, moaning, groaning, sweating, thrusting -_

 

_Loki and Sigyn..._

 

_**...Fucking.** _

 

"No, stop, I beg of you-!"

I darted awake. Panting and drenched in sweat, I noted that I was once again back in the confines of my chambers. The material of my gown now clung uncomfortably to my skin, the friction irritating me further as I wiped the tears that now trailed down my face in the aftermath of my dream. I despised the feeling of being in bed; I felt as though I had spent the majority of my time in Asgard in bed, sweating, crying, and sleeping. It disgusted me and yet - the familiarity of the bed always gave me comfort and a sense of security. 

"Your Highness is awake, I see." 

 _That voice-!_ My eyes snapped to the corner of the room, cast in shadow and the dark figure that stood there. In a fleeting moment, I recalled the memory of his wicked stare and immediately felt uncontrollable fear. The tension in the air was so dense I could feel it closing in on me, pressing against my skin and whispering in my ears. 

It was almost impossible to keep my voice from wavering. "Prince Loki." The words came out, cracked with emotion instead of cold and firm as I'd intended. In a room alone with him... I was completely and utterly at his mercy.

"How do you fare, Your Highness?" His tone was saccharine, condescending, almost mocking my title. Anger boiled beneath my skin but I forced a smile equally as insincere, too exhausted to handle another argument.

"I am well." I knew I should have ordered him to leave my room, but time and time again, I let my curiosity get the best of me. I rose unsteadily from the bed, cautiously making my way towards him. Mustering the remaining shreds of courage within me, I asked, "Was it you who found me and brought me back here?" 

"Yes, Your Highness."

"...Why, Loki?"

"I happened upon you when you were on the floor, unconscious. What brother would I be if I left you there, alone and unwell?"

His words left a foul taste in my mouth. I cringed inwardly, repulsed by his nonchalance, his unfeeling attitude, the way he just stood. "You are not my  _brother."_

"You are my brother's wife. Odin and mother have taken you under their wing. What are you to me, if not my  _sister?_ " Loki spat the word; I heard the grin fall from his face when he spoke, his tone turning bitter. Once quaking in fear, my body now trembled with fearsome rage. I detested the way he jeered at me, as if he understood even a shred of what I felt, and how hopeless I was in the midst of all this. 

"Show yourself when you are speaking to me!" I stormed across the room, furious. My footsteps echoed in time with my thundering heartbeat as I drew closer and closer to the man who could kill me, right then and there. He could wring my neck so that my cries for survival would not reach those occupying other regions of the palace. He could let my body crumble to the floor, lifeless, and vanish without one trace of evidence left behind to tie him to my murder. He could slit my throat in one fluid motion, clean and simple, before walking away. Or, _worst of all..._

"You would enjoy that, would you not?" spoke the God of Mischief, baring his teeth that held a malicious glint. I cursed beneath my breath, for I realized he must have read my mind again using his magic, despite his long-ago promise to me not to do so ever again. My eyes brimmed with hot tears. I felt betrayed, shocked, deceived. "But would you be just as eager if this..." slowly, he emerged from the darkness, revealing his Jotun form, "...  _monster,_ were the one to touch you? To sweep you off your feet? To be your - ' _Einar_ '? "

I stumbled backwards in shock. All anger drained from my body in an instant; cobalt skin and icy, crimson eyes were all I could see. My chest tightened from the initial panic of Loki advancing toward me ever-so-slowly, his eyes flashing a murderous red. It was truly a magnificent sight, though I must confess that the overwhelming fear for my own life overtook my desire to stop and admire Loki's beauty. 

"Loki!" My hand flew to my chest. My heart thudded aggressively beneath my palm. Fear soon became regret; I was only momentarily surprised at the transformation and did not fear his frost-giant form itself, but I  _knew_ that Loki would interpret my reaction otherwise.

The coldness in his stare faltered for a mere moment, replaced by a look of sorrow. The deep sadness in his eyes cut through my very soul, and I found my heart bleeding for him once again. But this had gone on for far too long - I would not allow myself to be manipulated by him any longer. Determined to stand my ground, I held out a defensive hand, hardening my gaze. "Are you truly afraid of me?" He asked with a pained rasp. "Do you loathe the  _monster_ as the others do? Or worse, are you like his mother who does not care to admit that she feels for him only pity?"

"What do you care how I feel?! You've no right to my mind, no right to my thoughts! How dare you, _how **dare** you!_" Loki took a step back, holding his hands out in mock surrender. His features morphed into that trademark smirk, one that trivialized every serious situation, the mischievous grin I both adored and passionately detested at the same time. An urge to punch that smirk off his face overcame me, causing my hands to ball into tight fists. But then I remembered the injury I'd sustain if I were to touch a Jotun's skin with my bare hands. Reluctantly, my hands relaxed, knuckles reverting from white back to the neutral tone of my flesh. "You promised me you would not do this ever again! Does your word mean nothing to you?"

"Is it not _blindingly obvious_ that the word of the God of  _Mischief_ should never be trusted?" 

"Do not taunt me, Loki-"

"Your Highness needn't fear me in  _that_ regard." I seethed when he ignored me and began to circle me leisurely. "The women of Asgard know me as the devilish, exciting sort. So many eager maidens; how could I even think of taking one by force-"

"I am not in the mood for your despicable games, Loki. I am to be your queen soon, and once I have assumed the position, I shall assign the entire garrison to my door, making it impossible for you to steal into my chambers like a common thief, unattended."

Loki paused, and scoffed. "Even then, I would have no trouble-"

"Why did you save me, Prince Loki?" My annoyance of him grew greater in my stomach but I forced it back; it would take patience to get Loki to listen, especially when he knew he held complete power over me in that room.   

"'Twas my duty as your _humble servant_ , Your Highness." I gritted my teeth and growled in painful frustration. For a long while, I contemplated my dangerous decision to move closer before steeling myself and following through. Unable to meet his gaze, I instead directed my focus on the bridge of his nose, silently marveling at the lapis-like sheen of his skin.

"Why are you really here, Loki?" I asked slowly, enunciating every word. Perhaps if I'd poured every ounce of sincerity I had into the question, he might finally understand that I was wholly and thoroughly serious. On the verge of tears once again, I relished in the sudden silence that filled the room - a confirmation that I had finally succeeded in gaining his respect. After taking a moment to compose myself, I continued calmly but firmly. "You have saved my life and fulfilled your duty as my husband's brother, and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But remaining in my chambers, watching me sleep, attempting and  _failing_ to frighten me in your Jotun form? You have crossed unspeakable boundaries, Loki. So I ask you again, My Prince, why are you  _still_ here? Why did you not leave once you had returned me to my bed, as would have been appropriate? What say you?!"

Silence. Crimson eyes were fixed intently on my own. Though we stood a fair distance apart, I could have sworn I felt the solemn rise and fall of his breath on my face. Loki turned sharply away from me. 

"I remember this scene," he mused, though I heard the unmistakable pain in his voice. "It's been so very long, but the memory still plagues my dreams nonetheless. The morning after we..." A _reminiscent smirk._ "I carried you back to this very room, where you, after seeing my true form for the first time, rejected my love."

"You have twisted that memory and turned it so hideous and unrecognizable from what actually happened! I did not 'reject your love' because you are a Jotun; by the Norns, could you be any more stupid? Don't you understand that the reason I refused you was to save your life? You horrid, despicable man!" I could no longer contain my anger and disappointment. I no longer cared if my voice was raised. All I needed was for him to understand. "If I had agreed to love you behind Thor's back, you would not be here mocking me, humiliating me for something I have no control over! You would be executed by Odin's orders! You would be  ** _dead!_** "

"So would you." Loki spun back round and met my glare with one of ice. The smirk had disappeared entirely from his face, replaced by a look of bitter rage. "You do not expect me to believe that your actions were for my sake, do you? You were ashamed of me, afraid the crown would slip from your grasp if they knew you'd spent your wedding night with a frost giant!" His mouth formed a crooked smile as a single tear streamed down his cheek, forming a trail of ice along rippling blue skin. Loki trembled visibly, causing fear to surge through me once again at the menacing nature of his expression. "You want to live a lie forever, so long as you get to sit in a _golden_ chair next to Asgard's favorite _golden_ prince! You are not in love with Thor, yet you play the part in hopes that you shall one day rule alongside him. You want to be rid of all that was between us, all that  _is_ between us!"

"There is  _nothing_ between us, Loki." A lump formed in my throat at the lie. Oh, how it pained me that I could not run into his arms and let him engulf me in a passionate embrace, but I could not afford to let him know. My hands fisted the material of my gown anxiously. "I love Thor."

"Oh?" His eyes narrowed to slits as he moved closer still, narrowing the space between us. Paralyzed with fear, I could only stand there and endure the coolness radiating from his frozen skin. "You love my brother?"

"Y-yes."

"Really?" A low chuckle followed, one that sent a chill along my spine. "You seemed distressed when you were...  _spectating_ our exchange in the gardens. Upset and, maybe even... jealous?"

"What you do with Lady Sigyn is none of my concern. What would she think if she knew you were in another woman's chambers, accusing me of... of shameful thoughts, unlawful desires for her intended? Have you no consideration for her? After all, you  _love_ her, do you not?"

Loki threw his head back in a humorless laugh. "Wherever did you get  _that_ idea?" 

"I see the way you look at her. You told me yourself that you had bedded her, and I have witnessed your affection toward her for myself. This...  **this** is the reason that I, at times, cannot bear to even look at you, Loki. You think you can seduce me, work your charm on me so that you might have two women's hearts in your possession at once. Two slaves, willing to let you toy with them, manipulate them, draw them in only to throw them back into the water once you grow bored. But while Sigyn may be content playing your games, I will not." 

I began to make my way towards the door, unwilling to let Loki see the heartbroken tears brimming at my eyes. I didn't want him to think I was vulnerable; he had to understand that I was strong. He had to understand that I knew Sigyn was the one he truly loved, and that he couldn't trick me into believing his lies any longer-

Loki grasped my shoulder before I could reach the exit and turned me around, slamming me onto the wood. I cried out in pain as my back came in contact with the door but was silenced by an icy hand clamped firmly over my mouth. He had shifted back into his Asgardian form; furious, confused, glistening emerald eyes were trained intensely on mine. I screamed again, body going limp with hopelessness as the sound was muffled entirely by his powerful grasp. He struck the wood beside me with sudden force, causing me to flinch in terror. 

"Sigyn is but a trifle to me, but at least she is mine! Do you know of the sleepless nights I have endured, of the pain I have had to conceal from waking in cold sweat without you beside me? Do you know how it torments me to see you with that  _oaf,_ how it kills me to know that I have already been forgotten?!" Loki's voice began to shake with emotion, the anger in his gaze softening. He brought his other hand to my cheek and traced a slow line along my jaw. "Have you any idea how the mere sight of you," I trembled under his touch, "...ignites a dark flame within me?" I watched as his eyes darkened under the light. He searched my eyes intently. His breaths grew shallow, and his lips parted involuntarily as he stared at me with what I recognized as intense desire.

I felt intimidated and afraid, but could not ignore the heat that burned in my core, against my own will. Without breaking his gaze, Loki removed his hand from my mouth, gently cupping my cheek. I shivered at the coolness of his fingers against my skin, but whimpered at the searing heat of his torso pressed against mine as he trapped me between the door and his towering body. Loki's gaze turned to my quivering lips. A tongue darted out to moisten his own before he moved. Slowly, carefully, inching closer and closer until his nose gently brushed mine, and his labored breaths mingled with my own in anticipation.

Loki paused, eyes fluttering shut. For an eternity, we stayed. In the state of burning lust and painful control, of searing desire and consuming hatred, of chaos and reason, fire and ice, sin and virtue, and-

" _I love you..._ " He whispered reluctantly, as though he hated the way it felt on his tongue. He despised his own feelings and so did I. I felt my heart ache at his words, words I had wanted so long to hear from him again. A torrent of indescribable emotions stirred in my chest. This man, this _trickster_ , had left me broken for so long, caused me loss so great and pain I had never thought imaginable before being swallowed whole by it. He was the only thing that stood between me and my life as Queen of Asgard, the only detriment to my happiness. He had been with another and severed our trust. All this time spent trying to forget him, attempting to banish my love for him like a demon from my body...

Right here, in his arms, was where I belonged. 

At that moment, all thoughts of responsibility, duty and of Thor were vanquished from my mind. His eyes opened, freeing glistening tears that rolled down his cheeks, falling from his chin and onto my face. A tear found my tongue and I savored the bitterness, the salt of our shared suffering. Then, without another word, Loki pressed his lips eagerly to mine, bridging the gap between us at last. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY. Or nay? You'll find out in the next chapter.
> 
> This chapter should have been called 'huge misunderstandings', haha.
> 
> The rate of updates increases with each comment and kudos, so please be sure to leave some and show support!!  
> Thanks for reading :)


	17. Illusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the tournament has arrived. Competitors across the realms have come to take part in the grand duel, which is held to promote the worthiness of Thor as king and protector of the realm. Tensions rise between you, Loki and perhaps some other observant eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG OVER 8000 HITS?!! Feels like a dream.
> 
> I've been really busy these past few months. I know I keep saying that but it always takes me a whole day to write up 4000+ word chapters for you guys, while maintaining the quality of the work. I am about to undergo my real GCSEs so I'm sorry I won't be updating in a while! I find it pretty hard to keep up, but I really really appreciate that some of you are still reading and loving this story!!
> 
> The whole chapter is in 3rd person :)

A bleak overcast lingered above the realm of the Aesir on the day of the tournament. The sun, held prisoner behind a fortress of billowing mass, struggled to caress the city with its usual morning radiance, dulling even the glistening golds of the great Asgardian structures. Such was the state of the kingdom in the beginnings of the onslaught of winter. A draft stole into the palace halls, a crisp chill settling into every crevice and corner. Because of the dismal undertones that streamed through the windows and into the princess's room, her chambers were unpleasantly ill-lit - the crimson hues were corrupted into a murky burgundy, the golds tainted an earthy yellow. 

As her handmaiden helped her dress for the event, the princess's mind was elsewhere. Earlier, she had been asked to choose between two ravishing sets of attire, to which she answered by gesturing to the gown on the left with disinterest, paying no heed to whether or not it suited her own tastes. 

Her limbs moved to the convenience of her handmaiden as she slipped the chosen garment over the princess's weak frame, whilst her thoughts drifted into the recent past, pondering the encounter that had plagued her mind for weeks... 

 

_"I love you..." He whispered reluctantly, as though he hated the way it felt on his tongue._

_His eyes opened, freeing glistening tears that rolled down his cheeks, falling from his chin and onto her face. A tear found her tongue and she savored the bitterness, the salt of their shared suffering. Then, without another word, Loki pressed his lips eagerly to hers, bridging the gap between them with fervor._

_Her body froze under the influence of his magnetism, his heat, his passion. Her limbs were rigid, trapped against the door beneath his towering frame, his hands secured on each side of her face as he parted her lips with his ravishing tongue, exploring her wet mouth like a man starved, claiming her soul for his own. She was paralyzed, unable to respond to the sudden ferocity of his movements, yet unable to pull away._

_He was suffocating her in a way more draining than she had ever known. It was powerful and electric, numbing, overwhelming. The same, stinging scent of mint and spice she had craved for years flooded her senses once more, burning her tongue and igniting the flame in her core which had simmered quietly for many a moon, only to be awakened with roaring intensity by the god who had put it there._

_Without further thought, she returned the kiss with equal ardor, mind spinning from the lack of air. Loki did not give her any opportunity to gasp for breath, and instead grinned wickedly against her lips as he ground her harshly into the wood with his hips, a guttural growl escaping his mouth from the pressure. Sensing his throbbing arousal so close to her own, she only kissed him harder, fueled by a love so aggressive, it dampened her urgency to breath underneath his iron weight._

_Loki resurfaced from the kiss for stolen second and looked at her through lidded eyes. The green in them had disappeared, completely obscured by an intoxicating, inky black she could drown in. But before she could succumb to their dangerous depths, teeth grazed and nibbled at the corner of her lips, then her jawline, and then the delicate skin of her neck. Her head fell back against the wood as her eyes slipped shut. He resumed his calculated ministrations on her soft flesh, nipping and sucking a particular vein, then soothing the area with his cool tongue in a motion so shameful and obscene, yet impossibly tender._

_Her eyes rolled back into her head. She bit down on her own hand to stifle a moan as his tongue dipped deliciously into the hollow of her throat. While his lips found the sweet swell of her chest, his hands roamed her body with exhilarating urgency, leaving trails of fire along her skin even through the fabric of her dress. His touches engulfed her in all ways possible. He was all she could smell and taste. All that filled her ears were her own strangled whimpers and his muffled moans against her flesh as he kissed her, right above her beating heart. She thought of nothing but the softness of his raven hair in her grasp, and felt nothing but his body flush against hers, his tongue on her skin, his scorching hands on her hips, then her shoulders, then her breasts, and then-_

_She cried out._

_Suddenly, three hurried knocks came from behind the door, the prompt vibrations jolting her out of the pleasurable haze. Pulled from her passionate trance, the princess remembered the immorality of their deed and the lives at risk from their forbidden love. Her eyes snapped open abruptly, momentarily meeting his with dread, sorrow and disgust - not at him, but at herself for allowing her indulgence to go so far after she had sworn fidelity to Thor, time and time again._

_Loki tore himself from her, a hand flying to his lip with a hiss of pain. Panic flashed over his features - an expression so rarely seen on his face, one so very besides his usual mask of complete and utter composure, intimidation, and control. Freed at last from the pressure of his heaving chest, she stumbled back into the door, bracing the wood for support, her movements hindered by her own breathlessness. Confused by Loki's actions, she grimaced at the bitter metallic tang forming in her mouth, realizing with a start that she had bit him._

_"Your Highness?" a concerned voice inquired from beyond the door, "are you all right?"_

_Their eyes met once more, bound by some deep, irrational connection she found impossible to ignore. He looked hurt, confused, frustrated. She watched his gaze travel from the blood on his fingertips from where he'd touched his lip, to lock on her own a third time. Unwilling to drown in the molten depths of his endless stare, she turned sharply towards the door and cleared her throat, answering, "yes, Unjarr. I am fine."_

_Her tone was hoarse and so different from her usual charismatic quips that she cringed inwardly at how unlikely it would be for the guard to believe her words of reassurance. Unjarr paused, obviously taken aback by the poor state of her voice and asked with increased distress: "Are you in pain, Your Highness? Shall I send for the healer?"_

_"N-no, that won't be necessa-"_

_Her eyes searched the dim chamber for the familiar lithe figure she both loathed and desired with a passion, but the dark prince was nowhere to be found. He had vanished with a turn of her head, leaving behind a chill that caressed the hairs on her skin with its icy talons. The image of those emerald orbs, cast in disappointment was now etched into the back of her mind, poisoning every exquisite memory of him. The pain burned fresh and real each time she let her eyes flutter to a close. Moments ago, she had wanted nothing more than for him to leave, yet now the void in her chest ached to be filled more than ever._

_She blanched in dread at the familiar feeling of searing bile rising to her throat, helpless as her body lurched forward involuntarily. Hearing this, Unjarr burst into the room and caught her before she collapsed, making to call for a healer before a weak hand gripped his shoulder._

_"Please..." she choked a plea between each strained breath, "I do not need... a healer..."_

_He looked at her incredulously. "But Your Highness-"_

_"I have been sick many times, Unjarr... y-you yourself have seen this."_

_"But, Your Highness-"_

_"You will call for my handmaiden and **nothing more**. Is that understood?"  _

_The conflicted soldier opened his mouth to protest, but pursed his lips in disapproval under the ice of her glare. Unjarr was no stranger to the princess's famous impositions of authority - a topic which had stirred debate amongst the palace staff and beyond after the seemingly inexplicable dismissal of Laila, a pregnant chambermaid. It had recently emerged that Laila's living conditions in the city were poor and unsuited for a young mother, who's child would soon be born to a pitiful life of poverty. This spurned hatred against the Lady and her increasingly curious antics, and a majority of the kingdom was quick to forget all that she had done for Asgard since her marriage to the crown prince. Much of the town gossip revolved around her state of mind, which seemed to suffer a slow decline in the eyes of prying outsiders. Unjarr pitied the poor princess, who's reputation was the latest to fall victim to malicious hearsay. He had not forgotten who appointed him to his current post, and so his gratitude eliminated all desire within his heart to perpetuate these rumors. Every time the princess fell ill, word would spread and she would once again become the object of disdain and ridicule._

_After a while he let out a reluctant sigh. "Very well, Your Highness. But you must know that this puts me in a rather difficult position with Prince Thor."_

_"Thor doesn't need to know, and neither does anyone else."_

_"Of course, Your Highness."_

 

"My Lady?" The chambermaid's timid voice roused her from the past. The princess turned her head in the direction of her servant; a gesture of acknowledgment, despite her vacant gaze remaining unmoved from the space ahead. This had become a regular occurrence and one that the maid herself regarded with incredulity when in discussion with other servants. Some days, Her Royal Highness would be full of life, her sharp tongue rivaled by none other than her wit, while Asgard rhapsodized over her effortless charm and the allure of her prospects. And others...

Sighing sympathetically, the maid tucked a loose strand of hair behind her mistress's ear. "Come, My Lady. Prince Thor will escort you to the tournament grounds."

 

 

 

The city center bustled with enthusiasm upon the arrival of Asgard's royals. Several contenders could already be heard releasing shouts of determination as they trained in the arena in preparation for the grand duel. 

"What a waste of strength," remarked the dark prince as he dismounted his steed, scouring the expanse of the battle arena. It was a structure of ancient rock, built to withstand the most torrential of storms and even resist the gradual destruction of age. Loki helped Sigyn from his horse, piercing eyes trained on the couple riding in front of them all the while. 

As soon as the heel of Thor's boot came in contact with the dirt, the crowd erupted in applause and cheer in welcome of their beloved Thunderer. The prince returned the affection of his people with a broad grin, raising Mjolnir to garner even more screams and vocalizations of support. 

"They love you," spoke his wife warmly, placing her hands on his shoulders as he helped her dismount. Thor cupped her face in his mighty hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, the glimmer of excitement in his eyes softening into a glow of tenderness.

"And they adore you no less than I do."

The look in her eyes showed that she was far from reassured. "I fear that may not be true, My Prince."

"You fear a great many things, my love. D'you remember the dance? You feared failure then, yet you moved as gracefully as any other."

Brittle laughter left her lips. "Let us not forget exactly what happened at the dance."

Thor sighed and threw an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "You knocked a goblet from Lady Asta's hand. Hardly a crime."

"I called Lady Sif a _'bitch'_ , Thor!"

" _Well_... you weren't _entirely_ wrong-"

The grin disappeared from his face. The brows of her concerned husband knitted in a manner so familiar to her, it would have made her laugh - were it not for the tightness in her jaw and the burning tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. She had always made some attempt to conceal her emotions before her husband in fear of irritating him even further than she assumed he must have already been, but Thor always saw right through her pitiful facade. 

Swallowing, her voice fell to a wavering whisper. "I  _embarrassed_ you, Thor." A glistening bead caught at the curl of her lashes before a gentle thumb brushed it away. She lowered her gaze to the ground, "and I embarrass you still."

"No my love, no!" The prince frowned, panic evident in his tone. "I feel no shame when I am with you. My heart fills with pride each day, knowing that each night, my beautiful wife is there to grace me with her company upon my return."

Thor had showered her with endless praises and hushed endearments long since their union, but even the most beautiful rose cannot retain its intoxicating fragrance forever, and Thor's sweet words were beginning to lose effect. 

Though her cheeks grew taut from greeting Lord and Lady after Lord and Lady with a rehearsed beam, the ache was no match for the sensation of a familiar pair of eyes burning into the back of her skull. 

 

Soon, the royals took their seats in the grand amphitheater as the last hundred spectators pooled into the venue. Cushioned chairs had been prepared for the King and Queen, and by Odin's prompt command, both princes and their consorts were provided with more comfortable accommodations. The Allfather and Allmother sat proudly in the center as the bold face of Asgard, whilst their sons and their women were situated on either side, much like vigilant guardians. Frigga had appointed a renowned artist to capture both the statuesque image of the royal family, and the exact frame of Thor's predicted victory against her conjured foes. The council members of Asgard were seated on a row below the royals, their hearts thrumming against their ribs in anticipation of Lady Octavia's plan being put into action at last. 

Loki leaned to the side in observation of the painter's canvas on which a rough but sure sketch of the royal family had begun to take form. He watched with an unreadable yet undeniably intense expression as the artist's brows furrowed in deep concentration, each stroke of his pen forming the familiar faces of the royal family seated on the steps. First the wide, majestic form of Odin took shape on the barren surface, followed by the careful lines of Frigga's regal posture and candid eyes. Then came the unmistakable frame of his brother's lounging body, muscles rippling and bulky, almost forcing the woman beside him into the armrest. Loki's gaze softened as the ink traced the gentle curve of the lips he had crushed with his own, then the defined jawline he had tasted, sucked, licked, mapped with his mouth... 

His tongue flickered to wet his lips. Loki continued to follow the artist's movements as he worked on capturing the devilishly defined features the prince recognized as his own. Loki's eyes narrowed in displeasure. The hairline was much too close to his brow, the eyes too cat-like, the jaw too slender, _everything_  about the painter's depiction of him seemed to bring Loki distaste. And then it struck him, like the most disheartening epiphany; this must have been what the people of Asgard saw when they looked at him - a serpent, a feline, or every cunning creature they could name apart from a prince of Asgard. Anything but one of their own.  _Anything but an equal._

All his life, Loki had tried to understand the reason behind their hatred of him. He was but an infant when Odin had taken- no,  _stolen_ him from the frozen rock upon which he had been left to die on Jotunheim. Being Laufey's only heir, he could have succeeded him and been  _King of the Frost Giants,_ allowed to claim his birthright as ruler of his true birthrealm. But Odin had taken this away from him. The King had brought him back to Asgard, coaxing him into stepping into the shadows as Thor rose to greatness, luring him with the prospect of the throne when it had never once been a possibility, deceiving him with the glittering gold facades and luxurious mirages that hid a much darker truth - Loki was a frost giant, and would always be regarded as such. Treated as what he was. 

"A monster!"

Startled for a split second, Loki snapped out of his reverie, scouring the expanse of the crowd for the source of the fearful exclamation. A strange feeling coiled in his stomach and gnawed at him from within as his eyes settled on a young girl seated quite a distance from him, almost so that she was facing his direction. His blood ran cold for a moment when her frightened eyes seemed to lock onto his, her little mouth opening once more to cry out:

"A monster! Look, mother,  _a monster_!" The child tugged insistently on a woman's sleeve and pointed to the arena, where the first of Frigga's illusory beasts emerged from the gate. A wave of relief washed over Loki and he leaned back, lazily watching as the first contender stepped out into the arena to meet his foe. The cheers from the crowd fell on deaf ears when he overheard a rather unsavory conversation between two peasant men a few rows behind him. 

_"I do believe Prince Thor has asked his brother to participate in the event!"_

_"You mean Loki?_ **_Loki Laufeyson_ ** _?"_

_"Who else? Thor must be so generous, so benevolent and kind to let a **frost giant** compete in a grand **Asgardian** tournament such as this."_

_"My thoughts exactly! And he doesn't even seem ashamed!"_

_"And so **small** too, for a Jotun. I wonder why that is?"_

A snort.  _"Must have been born a runt!"_

 _"Quite right, quite right!"_ The man raised his goblet to his lips. 

A second later there was a great cry. The man sputtered and coughed and gasped; the goblet tumbled to the step below and the wine bled over the rock. The two men stared in horror as an infestation of maggots squirmed and writhed in the dark red liquid. 

A conniving smirk tugged at the corner of Loki's lips. The tingling wisp of energy faded from his fingertips amidst the uproar of the masses in response to the first competitor's failure against his enemy. Soon the second stumbled out onto the battle ground, facing the beast with foolish determination. 

"What are you thinking about?" His little victory was interrupted by Sigyn's sweet inquiry, and he turned to face her. She returned his gaze earnestly, batting her eyelashes and blatantly lavishing in his attention. 

"I'm not thinking of anything, pet."

"Yes, you are, with that sly smile of yours. Have you been up to any mischief, My Prince?"

Loki snickered inwardly. "No, my songbird."

A naughty grin split Sigyn's beautiful features apart as she rested her head on his shoulder, clinging snugly to his arm. "I sang for you a few weeks ago, when you barged into my chambers and threw me onto my own bed." A content sigh fell from her lips. "I so enjoyed that night."

The prince stared ahead, expressionless. Suddenly, the air grew thick and his armor too tight, constricting his flesh to the point of numbness as he recalled the events that had plagued his dreams each night, like scintillating embers that refused to fade. "Oh?" 

"You seemed furious at something before you arrived. Positively fuming, and immensely upset, and so  _impossibly_ _hard._  But I didn't care, because you made me feel things I never thought were possible."

Loki's breathing quickened. "Perhaps you'll sing for me again tonight."

A rosy hue spread through Sigyn's cheeks. She bit her lip. "Maybe if you're in spirits similar to those you displayed that night."

Before Loki could respond, the commotion grew deafening as the crowd stood and cheered with renewed vigor. He turned to see the crown prince descending the steps, clad in armor, the sun glinting upon the golden locks that protruded from beneath his winged helmet. Several children tugged at the crimson cape that billowed proudly in his wake, their eyes aglow with awe and admiration. 

Thor set foot into the arena and held up Mjolnir, basking in the eruption of approval from all visitors across the realms. The great cheer and excitement was suddenly replaced by thunderous silence - whispers and murmurs of bewilderment and confusion spread across the multitudes as the firstborn prince of Asgard lowered his fabled Uru hammer, setting it on the ground behind the gate. The painter readied his brush, determined to capture the frame of his imminent victory.

The prince then drew a sword and advanced toward his growling adversary with slow, confident strides. The creature snarled, spittle flying onto Thor's face. He recoiled in disgust, swiping a palm across his chin and shot his mother an amused glance before breaking out in sonorous laughter. The Queen's crystalline orbs flashed with humor, though her features remained unmoved. 

The beast circled the prince steadily, its stance defensive and claws twitching in anticipation, ready to lunge at any given opportunity. It seemed to take its time watching him, surveying his muscular form as if acknowledging him as a being more powerful than the hundred others it had just defeated. Thor smirked to himself; he'd have to thank his mother after the tournament. 

"Well, what are you waiting for?" The beast stopped, snarling aggressively in his direction. The thrill of battle coursed through his veins like a natural narcotic. His eyes twinkled with excitement as the ground shook beneath the creature's advances. The monster gradually broke into a sprint, bringing its snapping jaws closer and closer to the Prince of Asgard. The crowd looked on in terror, filled with both worry and anticipation in the few seconds where the beast rumbled towards Thor, its eyes blazing a malicious crimson. It drew closer still, dead set on its target. 

Any other soldier would have cowered in fear from this monstrous foe as they stared straight ahead into the face of death. But while a gripping sensation formed in his chest, it was not the fear of death that made Thor Odinson's heart pound to the daunting rhythm of a war drum...

It was the rush of a challenge.

The beast struck first. The people gasped. Some looked away, or shielded the eyes of their young. It took the crowd several moments to recover, but they soon rose in enthusiasm, eyes enlarged and enraptured by the sight before them.

Thor had lodged his blade between the creature's bloodied fangs, so that it could not push itself further unless Thor relinquished his strength. The prince pushed back against it, his neck and rippling arms blotched with veins as he fought against the force that threatened to crush him. A shout of frustration pierced the air - he had not expected an illusion to hold such strength, such endurance, that it could almost rival his own. He had envisioned a quick and easy victory, far from the drawn-out, grueling match against a ghastly phantasm that could have passed for a living, breathing beast. 

Despite the compromise, no sliver of regret crept into his mind. He had refused his mother's offer to go easy on him. He had let go of Mjolnir. He had approved the event himself. He had asked for a challenge and now here it was, snapping at his face, fighting back against the sword between its teeth. 

He had wanted this. 

And now...

Now, he would show them the true strength of a king.

A rush of bravery jolted his mind into action. He was assured long before the event that he would not be harmed even if the monster managed to land an attack, but it would not mask the lack of injury on Thor's person, therefore exposing the trick behind the entire operation. The threat of shame alone overpowered any initial tremors he had felt before the battle.

In a fraction of a second, the sword came free of the creatures mouth. Time seemed to slow as the beast's jaws made to snap shut in a position perfect for the prince's head to be crushed between each row of saber teeth. The audience cried out in dread. But Thor leaned back, sliding under the creature's belly as its mouth closed around thin air, propelled forward by its raging hind legs. It collided with the wall with a ferocious rumble that shook the arena. The rock split apart with a resounding crack upon the impact. The animal lurched backwards, dazed from the painful collision, which gave Thor the perfect opening for attack.

"Well, I can't say you didn't try, dear beast." 

The creature, furious and confused, turned to see its enemy running forth one final time before it arched its back in pain from the sword driving through its spine. Thor perched atop the beast with a triumphant grin, pushing the tip of the blade through its body to emerge from the other side in one grim stroke of finality. The monster let out one final moan of agony before dropping to the ground with a resounding thud. Once its eyes had glossed over from the loss of life, Thor pulled the sword from its grisly carcass and held it to the air, letting the sun wash over the fluid that stained the Asgardian steel. 

The sound that tore from the horde of spectators was nothing short of deafening. It was magnificent, loud, boisterous, a symphony of admiration all for him and him alone. Every pair of lips in the arena formed his name, chanting ceaselessly in glorious celebration of their future ruler, the first to be victorious in the grand tournament. Though he had been met with such a volume of support on countless occasions throughout his life, he never tired of that ecstatic feeling of being loved and adored by thousands. 

As he exited from the gate, Mjolnir flew into his grasp, like a loyal companion. His calloused fingers tightened happily around the handle, feeling whole once more. The thrill of victory still coursed throughout his veins as he made his way back towards his place on the steps, nodding appreciatively in the direction of Sif and the Warriors who all beamed with pride. Odin and Frigga were aglow with delight, greeting their son with praises upon his return. 

With the crowd distracted, several soldiers dragged the massive corpse out of the arena until it disintegrated behind the gate, thoroughly hidden from the view of the masses. A flicker of light wavered in its place, taking the form of a new beast with the subtle wave of Frigga's hand. 

Thor's attention then turned to his wife, who stood to pull him into a tight embrace. "You were amazing," she said, flashing him a polite smile. As she made to sit down again, something took ahold of him. Whether it were pride, excitement, or a sudden rush of confidence, he did not know. But he caught her waist with a rugged arm, another hand finding the back of her neck to press her lips against his own. Obviously caught by surprise, she seemed hesitant to respond. Her body felt unusually stiff in his arms, far from the way she normally relaxed against his own so many times before. This troubled him to a slight extent, and he considered pulling away before the whistles and cheers of encouragement from around them seemed to put her at ease. Her mouth parted for his tongue and he kissed her with relief, deep and passionate before a thousand eyes and a million smiles. 

Sigyn yelped, pain jolting through her arm from Loki's nails digging into her palm. She looked up at him in shock, searching his face for some sign of emotion other than the fixed scrutiny that hardened his features. 

"Loki?!"

He ignored her, staring ahead into an abyss only he seemed to see. She cried out, her attempts to break free from his grip proving futile when he paid no heed to her protests. Sigyn struggled against his tightening hold, her cries growing louder until her only hope was to shout if that meant breaking his indiscernible train of thought. 

" _Loki, please!"_

The look in his eyes when his head snapped to meet her gaze could be described as nothing but dangerous. Sigyn flinched as if truly pierced by his glare. Her blood ran cold beneath her skin. This was not the Loki she knew, nor the lover who had always looked fondly upon her. No, this was far from her darling betrothed - this was another side of him, another darkness she had only heard of in stories and never once dared to believe herself. His features were handsome and chiseled as always, but there was something terrible about his eyes. Something...  _deadly._  

"Brother!" Thor's bounding tenor distracted Loki from his rage, if only for a second. He released Sigyn's wrist with a tremulous sigh and she quivered, watching his eyes fall shut in annoyance before a perfect mask of politeness swept across his face as he turned to meet his brother. 

"Congratulations on your latest victory, brother. Though I must confess, I would much rather  _not_  take part in this event." His words flowed smooth and practiced, never once betraying the violent emotions that raged beneath his flawless composure. 

Thor's face fell. "And why in the Nine Realms would you change your mind?"

"If I recall correctly, it was  _you_ who insisted I participate." The dark prince crossed his arms, displeased. " _I_ never wanted to fight Mother's childish illusions."

" _'Childish illusions'_?!" Thor looked deeply offended; a twinge of a smile ghosted across Loki's lips. "Did you not see the monstrosity-"

"Brother, if I wanted to battle a beast, I would simply cast a cloaking spell over Mjolnir and wait in your chambers."

" _Loki."_ The sudden plea in Thor's tone took him by surprise. "You promised me you'd do it."

"Do  _what,_ exactly?" Loki snapped, words cutting through the air. "Lose against the beast in emphasis of your greatness?!"

"That is not what I-"

"I could do it, you know." His voice dropped to a harsh whisper, the muscle tense in his jaw. "I could outsmart it, with my  _'magic tricks_ ', as you so loved to call them. I could bring it to submission with my abilities, make it beg for mercy before I cut it down, swift and effortless."

Thor was silent for a moment, his smile sad. "I know you could." Loki blinked at the words, not expecting them to ever fall from his brother's lips. He swallowed, cursing the thickness in his throat. The elder prince's gaze turned to the men sat behind him who had insulted Loki and subsequently suffered the consequences. "You know, I heard the things they said about you."

"Filthy peasants."

"The  _nerve_ of them!" Both men broke out in laughter, sharing a joy they had not experienced together in a long while. Despite their disputes and their everlasting rivalry, Loki could not suppress the warmth in his heart no matter how badly he sought to deny it. And for a fleeting moment, Loki almost forgot the instances in which he had been wronged because of Thor in the past, and the many things he'd been denied throughout his life for the simple but damning reason that he wasn't Thor. For a beautiful while, the image of his brother's tongue invading the mouth of the woman he loved slipped from his mind. His brother placed a hand on his shoulder, eyes brimming with pure, unadulterated sincerity. "Why won't you prove them wrong?"

Loki held his gaze for an eternity. Thor was hopeful, pleading, and puzzled as he pondered the mechanisms of his brother's mind - an ancient mystery yet to be solved. After a few more moments of deep thought, Thor's cheeks split in a gleeful grin when Loki conjured his golden helmet, placing it atop his head with a reluctant exhale. 

Once again the crowd fell silent as the Jotun prince walked out onto the battlefield, brazen horns catching the sunlight, cape of sage swaying in the wake of each measured step. A dagger graced each of his hands, greeting the air with their dangerous gleam. To all who were watching, Loki seemed to glide into the area, his presence silent and sure, casual yet calculated. 

From her position, the future queen observed him. Every move caused a stir in her chest; each step towards the gate wrung her insides. 

Once the bloodthirsty shriek of his foe tore from beyond the rattling barrier separating him from his adversary, Loki readied his blades in anticipation, eyeing the gate as it began to rise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I split this longass chapter in 2 so Loki steps up to the challenge in the next chapter!!
> 
> Thor and the Reader are so cute :3 but Loki and Reader..... >:3
> 
> Kindly leave kudos and comments; what do you think should or will happen next in the story? What do you think of the characters and how they're portrayed? Did you enjoy the makeout(s)? ;) Or just say what you like or dislike about the fic. Comments motivate me to deliver the next chapter of cheesy drama you crave.
> 
> Thank you, love you guys <3
> 
> P.S. I saw Infinity War a week ago and... let's just say I've never been more triggered :'( Working on this story after watching the film was particularly hard.  
> Looks like it's final this time guys *cries*. No spoilers in comments in consideration of those who haven't seen the movie please, but feel free to talk about how you felt about the movie!!


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